Sky on Fire: Walk Through Shadow
by Killaurey
Summary: AU Sidestory to Slow Burn. Shikamaru centric While Ino is off in Kumogakure for the Chuunin Exams, Shikamaru's nightmares worsen and his control over his shadow unravels. Getting it together again means facing his worst enemy—himself.
1. My Father's Sister

Title: Walk Through Shadow  
Chapter: 01 My Father's Sister  
Author/Artist: Killaurey  
Disclaimer: Naruto doesn't belong to me. It's Kishimoto's and I just play with it. AU immediately after the Sasuke Retrieval Arc. Part 1 of 7. Unbeta'd. Thanks so much to all who read, review, and lurk! Yes, I'm still working on Slow Burn and hopefully the next chapter will be up early next week!

Notes: This is a side story to _Slow Burn_. It's not absolutely necessary to read Slow Burn, but it would probably help explain the backstory!

[Shikamaru centric] While Ino is off in Kumogakure for the Chuunin Exams, Shikamaru's nightmares worsen and his control over his shadow unravels. Getting it together again means facing his worst enemy—himself.

* * *

The low table in the center of the room was different tonight.

Rather than the plain, dark wood it had been made out of every other time he'd been here, the top had changed to alternating panels of pale and dark wood. Even the legs of it were slightly trimmer, the feet curling up slightly with the faintest hint of a swirl carved into them.

Shikamaru's eyes narrowed at the table. He didn't know what the change meant, only that he couldn't help but feel that any change in this, his starting point for every bad dream he'd had in the last few months, was likely to be bad news.

Looking around the room, the white room--the floor was just as bare as always, pure white tile that was cool under his unshod feet--Shikamaru frowned, when he noticed a wall hanging.

That hadn't been there before either. And where was Odd-Ino? She always showed up to lead him to another dream, always looking older and somehow not quite the girl—still a girl, just a little _off_--who he worked-fought-trained with in the real world. Familiarity had shaken his convictions that she was simply an older Ino, produced by his thoughts—she was too different to be a reflection of sorts. He didn't know what else to call her, though, as she was, Shikamaru was certain, _some_ sort of Ino.

Even months of interacting with her hadn't given him much of a clue beyond that, though. She was always flighty, and seldom spoke plainly.

Unwillingly, reluctantly, but he was no stranger to his mind by now, Shikamaru walked over to inspect the wall hanging. If she wasn't here, then there was something he had to do first. Shikamaru considered the size of the tapestry, judging it to be wider than he could reach with arms out-spread, but only barely. And the height the thing had...

As always, it took him longer to get to the hanging and the wall it adorned than it should have. Distances were deceptive and never simple when it came to his mind. Rules, what rules? It was another thing to mull over.

Shikamaru glanced back over his shoulder, just in case Odd-Ino had shown up, but saw nothing but the table in the room. His frown got just a little deeper at that. Changes like this--he found them unsettling.

He did _not_ like change.

Turning back to continue towards the hanging, he nearly walked right into it. Swearing, Shikamaru managed to stop himself before he'd touched it; his nose a bare half inch from the rich fabric. He knew that he hadn't been nearly so close to it before he'd glanced behind him.

Dreams, he thought sourly. That was irritating. He took a careful step back from the tapestry; his eyes fixed on it in the hopes that his gaze would pin it down, lock it into place. Even better, it put some distance between him and the thing.

Touching things, especially when they weren't always in his dreamscape, generally led to the worst sort of nightmares. Shikamaru was more than willing to put the experience off for just a little bit.

Until Odd-Ino arrived, at least. He resisted the urge to glance over his shoulder again to see if she'd shown up. It would only serve him right if he landed in the hanging because he was too twitchy about a change in routine.

As much as his own subconscious had a routine. _Shut up_, he told himself.

He glanced up at the hanging and swallowed hard.

Red was the predominant colour. Brilliant bloody scarlet, mixed in with brown-red that reminded him uncomfortably of drying blood, and a deep ruby red. All of them spiraled around each other, tied in knots until he couldn't tell where the colours started and mixed.

On the sober background of black and gray, the red stood out like an eye-sore. Like blood, he thought. White areas, or mostly white, some of them slightly pinkish—diluted blood, he supplied darkly—and near the top were two small ovals in startling, shocking blue, amidst rest of the carnage. The blue a serene contrast to the bloodied and tumultuous colours of the rest.

Of all of it, only those ovals standing out so prominently now that he'd noticed them, seemed to rise above the disaster, the fighting, and the rest of the hanging. Nausea rolled in his stomach, and he stared as if bespelled at the blue ovals—almost like eyes, Shikamaru realized, nausea abruptly doubling. Ino's eyes. There was no mistaking that shade of blue.

"You don't like my tapestry?" A girl's voice echoed through the room, and Shikamaru swung around, almost staggering as he managed a few steps away from the hanging--tapestry--and tried to will his stomach calm.

It was Odd-Ino; she had seated herself at the low table and now there was a plate of crackers and tea sitting out. Honey to add to the tea, though usually they both took it black. Forcing another swallow, he took a few more steps, and refused to glance behind him to see if the hanging had followed him while he tried to come up with an answer.

"I don't," he said finally, honestly, as he more collapsed than sat opposite from her. He felt drained, like he'd been running a marathon, when all he'd done was look at a tapestry and then walk away from it.

Odd-Ino regarded him frankly, eyes wide and guileless. This time around she was wearing a kimono in pink and gold, herons in flight scattered across it. The colours made her seem more delicate than usual. Her long blonde hair, longer than real Ino had ever had, was braided and then pinned up around her head to form a crown of hair. Blue eyes matching the tapestry ovals fearlessly met his gaze. Shikamaru couldn't stand to meet that look for more than a few seconds. He dropped his eyes to stare at the tea cup she placed down in front of him.

Shikamaru reached and carefully picked up his cup. His hand shook slightly and he struggled to steady it. Nothing was wrong, he told himself, it was just tea. And Odd-Ino staring at him, he could feel her gaze prickling along his skull, but Shikamaru refused to look up to confirm it. He didn't need to.

"I don't mind," she said, her voice lilting and somehow contemplative. "It's not a design meant for peace."

The tea was hot, too hot as his swallow burnt his tongue. Shikamaru welcomed that pain; it gave him something to focus on while he tried to regain his equilibrium. "Who would want that up in their house then?"

He wasn't having much luck, but his words had come out in an almost-drawl. Better that than his voice cracking as Shikamaru had half-feared it would.

"You can't think of any reasons?" Odd-Ino asked him.

Despite himself, he relaxed slightly. This was routine. What was supposed to happen before a nightmare—tea and talk until he had something to think about beyond the nightmares. Shikamaru couldn't help but wonder, though, at the change in the pattern. Patterns didn't break for no reason.

It was dangerous to ignore it, even if it was only a break inside subconscious. Perhaps, he amended, as he took another sip of his near scalding tea, it was even more dangerous because it was only in his head. There was no one but himself to rely on.

"I can think of a few," he said with a frown as Odd-Ino fussed with her tea and the few rice crackers on her plate.

Her blue blue eyes blinked up at him and she tilted her head invitingly, clearly expecting some sort of answer, but stayed silent. Like a bird, he thought, eyes tracing the outline of one of the herons on her kimono. Shikamaru doubted her wardrobe was coincidence.

"As a reminder," Shikamaru said, testing the words out carefully, weighing them delicately so that what he said wouldn't be misconstrued. "Of war. Of pain. So that whoever had hung it up would never forget what had gone on, or what _could_ go on." It depended on the circumstances. Everything did, but Shikamaru forged on anyway. If he'd protested every question with a need for more information he'd never have gotten anywhere. Oftimes, more information simply wasn't available.

"Or," he continued, "it could have been placed as revenge--someone in the household believes there's something the one the message is intended for, needs to see, and see constantly. They want them uncomfortable and upset."

Odd-Ino blinked slowly, still carefully poised and almost heartbreakingly delicate. Looking at her made his chest tighten and he didn't know why. "Do you think it was placed for that purpose here?" she asked, as she took up a cracker.

Shikamaru glanced over at the wall tapestry. "I'd rather not believe that," he answered. His tea wasn't getting any colder; it never did in his dreams. It was always just to the side of being too hot.

"Why not?"

"Because whatever message is in that thing, I don't want it." Blunt. He had no fear of Odd-Ino getting angry. She never did—sometimes inscrutable, sometimes incomprehensible, but never the ranting raging fury of her namesake.

"What if the message is that 'she doesn't care what you want'?"

He paused. "Are you saying _that's_ a message from _Ino?_" It was all but impossible, Shikamaru thought, even if Ino was all about mind games. She would _not_ do something like this. Not to him.

It was too indirect.

Odd-Ino lifted her shoulders in a shrug. "Who can say for sure?" she asked, tilting her head to the other side. "For certain, that is. Taking care to heed your messages might make things different."

Shikamaru set his cup down; the tea looked as if he hadn't had a single sip. "I think," he said quietly, "that if the message is that, then it could be repeated as many times as a heart beats and I would still ignore it. Even if she doesn't care what I want, how is that going to stop _me_?"

"I don't know," she answered him. "Did you want to find out?"

Shikamaru looked at her, not sure of what she was asking quite then. "I'll find out if and when it happens in the waking world," he replied, frowning at her. "I don't need to be coming up with answers to questions like that when this isn't reality."

Odd-Ino was unperturbed by his frown. That, at least, both Ino's shared. He couldn't even count the number of times Ino had blithely ignored his mood and gone on to detail merrily whatever plan she'd had in mind. Odd-Ino, though, seemed only to not notice.

_No doubt because she's just a construct of my subconscious_, he thought moodily. _How nice, my subconscious is insane._

Whereas Ino, in the waking world, definitely knew what she was about whenever she overran his mood or opinion.

"What do you think reality is?" she wondered, turning her head to glance at the tapestry on the wall. "That seems pretty real to me."

"It's in my head," he replied, refusing to look over at the hanging yet again. "That makes it only a figment of my imagination. It's not real."

"I'm only in your head too," Odd-Ino pointed out, blue eyes wide and disarming. "Does that mean you don't think I'm real either?"

Shikamaru, caught off-guard by that question, raised his eyebrows. "Do you think you're real?"

She didn't seem like it to him, honestly. Shikamaru wasn't particularly enthused with the idea of her _being_ real. That would only cause more headaches than he was willing to deal with.  
If he could keep his dreams and the rest of his life separate, he could deal. Would deal. His father had said that every Nara got dreams. Shikamaru wondered what his father's were like. Was there an Odd-Yoshino in his head? Did he still have to deal with this, the tea and the rice crackers and then the nightmares.

The table they were sitting at began to waver, the light and dark paneling flickering in and out, as if lights in the middle of a storm, the power cutting in and out over and over as he watched.

Shikamaru realized as his nausea came swooping back that Odd-Ino had disappeared. The tea service wavered and sank into the table; the table flickered in and out wildly as he climbed to his feet and braced himself for the nightmare that was coming. His shoulders tensed and for all of his preparation, the sudden lurching of the room sent him off balance enough that he slipped--

--and fell _through_ the table--

--into a world of blood and bone and screams. Picking himself off the ground, he always landed flat on his ass for some reason, Shikamaru took stock of the situation and paled.

It was a battlefield.

As far as the eye could see were shinobi fighting shinobi, jutsu flying through the air, the ground punished doubly from both sides as havoc was perpetuated.

He didn't see Ino though.

Shikamaru brushed himself off though no mud—no blood—had touched him, and looked around. His lips tightened when he realized that, in the distance, he could see Chouji--it had to be Chouji, no one else moved like that—and that his oldest friend was slowly losing his fight.

Lips thinning, Shikamaru walked, almost slouched in that direction. This was a dream, he reminded himself again and again, and kept to a slow walk as he headed in Chouji's direction. No trick of his subconscious was going to send him running. As he walked, he kept an eye out for Ino. Where Chouji was, Ino would be. She had to be.

They were a team. Where else would she be? He mentally shied away from the other possibilities—of Ino dead, of Ino turned traitor, of Ino gone missing—and kept walking. One foot in front of the other as he unwillingly looked at the scene around him; Shikamaru knew it was no good closing his eyes. The scene would remain in his view, as if painted on his eyelids.

There was no such thing as a reprieve inside of his head.

Bodies littered the ground like so many discarded toys; broken and bleeding from horrific wounds as their empty eyes cut into him like kunai. He recognized so many of them, the bodies were his family, his classmates, his co-workers…

Chouji was still fighting. Shikamaru took heart from that and tried to speed up, to stop noticing and picking out the details of the carnage—there was his mother, slit from neck to groin and face forever frozen in a rictus of pain; his father stuck to a tree like a pincushion, long thin blades having pierced his body so many times that it was only the fact that the face had been untouched that he could tell who it was—and knew that, even if this was a dream, he'd remember in the morning.

How could he forget? Those were his _parents_.

He didn't think there was anyone who could just shrug something like this off. Shikamaru hoped that he never could. What had Odd-Ino said? That it was a message? "Got it," he murmured, sick at heart with the whole situation. "Loud and clear."

Then he was standing near Chouji, and the battlefield was different--no longer in the midst of a spoilt forest, this was a plain that had been left mostly untouched. He looked at Chouji and recoiled. His oldest friend had been brutally wounded, blood flowing freely from too many injuries to count, and Shikamaru couldn't even imagine the strength of will that was keeping him up-right.

"Chouji," he said, feeling helpless and hating it. "It's okay, you've done enough."

Whatever fight was being fought, surely Chouji had done enough by now.

Chouji didn't hear him. Shikamaru had known he wouldn't. This was _his_ dream, after all, but the rules weren't his. (If Shikamaru had been in control of his dreams they'd have been peaceful.) He followed Chouji's intent gaze and went white, wobbling as he took in the fight that was going on.

Ino was easily recognizable. He'd know her deceptively slender body anywhere, and her hair spilt down her back, having fallen loose from her customary ponytail. She was wearing a Chuunin vest and boots that had shin guards on them. The bandages she wore around her hands and arms were still present, but the look on her face, the cold shuttered rage implicit in her empty blue eyes chilled him to the core. Her hitae-ite was firmly around her forehead, the Konoha leaf cleanly inscribed in the metal.  
That wasn't the way Ino was supposed to look, but that wasn't what upset him the most. No, what upset him the most, as he looked at her opponent--a man more wiry than bulky, with longish dark hair and earrings in his ears; his hitae-ite, though, was slashed through the leaf, traitor-nin, missing-nin--and was the fact that the person Ino was fighting… he knew better than anyone.

She was fighting _him_.

* * *

He woke up all at once, chest heaving and sweat-soaked as he blinked up at the ceiling of his bedroom and tried to make sense of what he'd seen in his dream. Nausea welled up and Shikamaru all but flung himself out of bed and hurried to the bathroom that was just down the hall.

Shikamaru locked the door behind him. His hands shook as he stared at his reflection in the mirror over the sink. He looked ghastly, chalk-ish and pasty. Shikamaru closed his eyes, glad that this he could close out so he didn't have to look, and struggled to keep from throwing up. In a ninja household, he knew that his waking up as he had hadn't gone unnoticed. But he'd be left alone unless he got sick.

Too many years of paranoia, he thought, as he breathed deeply to steady his stomach. That's what it was. If one fell ill, there was always the chance of it being poison. He did _not_ want to cause a fuss. In and out. Slowly he got his stomach back under control.

Splashing water on his face, he stared into his reflection and wished again that this would just _stop_. Taking care of other business first, he headed back to his room and glanced at the clock. It was early, just past three in the morning.

And there was no chance of him getting any more sleep tonight. Even though he'd managed to defeat the nausea, Shikamaru knew he was too keyed up to try and get more shut eye. Ignoring his bed, he got dressed and flicked on the table lamp at his desk. Pulling out one of the books his father had given him back when the dreams had started, Shikamaru settled in to try and find something useful for controlling them.

Around his feet, his shadow rolled and stretched across the floor. He cast a glance at it, but didn't bother with trying to still it. He had enough difficulties with it when he wasn't nightmare-rattled. Any effort now would be useless if he attempted to work on control right now. Only a few more hours, he told himself, and then he'd go down and help his father out with the deer while waiting to see if there were any missions for him to go on.

It was… different. Being left behind without any of his team. Most of his classmates, the ones he bothered talking to on a regular basis, were gone as well—Shino and his team out on a mission, which was, he'd heard through the grapevine, undoubtedly a good thing for Shino considering the situation the Aburame found themselves in, the village in a, well, buzz about it—but Shikamaru could be honest with himself, in his own slightly messy room, that it was the fact that his team was gone that bothered him the most.

_This time,_ Ino had said, _you'll be the one left behind._

She'd said it as if that had meaning. Shikamaru was rapidly finding out what she'd meant. It was _hard_ to remember that he didn't have team training because he had no team here, or that he wouldn't be out on a mission with them—if he got a mission, it would be with an entirely different team—and he wondered, again, if this was something of what Ino had thought a few months ago.

At least, he'd realized, he'd had warning. It didn't make the fact easier to swallow, but it did keep away the idea that he'd been left behind because he wasn't good enough. Not that that sort of thing was what Shikamaru would have considered but he _knew_ Ino; he could guess that her thoughts had spiraled onto that almost immediately.

He set his jaw and shook his head. That just led to him thinking that he'd done something wrong there—which he _hadn't_, even if it had been an awful thing to do, but he couldn't have taken her, he'd needed raw power and Ino didn't have that, not even now after all her training, and there'd been no way that he was going to break confidentiality and _tell_ her—Shikamaru scowled down at his book.

In the last few weeks he'd read the books repeatedly. Even as he opened it up for yet another time through it, Shikamaru knew that he wasn't going to find anything new. It was just a way of making the time go by, giving him focus on something other than the fact that he wanted his team back where he could keep an eye on them and the rising knowledge that even if they were in Konoha, his shadow was increasingly unstable and rendering him more of a liability than anything else during a mission.

Yet another thing that he had to get under control. Asuma-sensei had told him to use the time they were gone to put himself back together, work things out, but Shikamaru didn't have so much of an inkling as to how he was supposed to do it.

He flipped through the pages of the book, dark eyes scanning the words without really registering them beyond the fact that it was about control, which he lacked, but spoken so vaguely about how to get back that Shikamaru scowled. What was the point of instructions if you couldn't understand them?

How did someone walk through the shadows of their own mind? For extreme cases only, the text ran, but didn't give any more information. He ran one hand through his tangled hair--he slept with it loose, it wasn't worth the effort of trying to untangle the elastic from his hair every morning otherwise--and let out a sigh. Shikamaru wondered if he ought to ask his father about it.

Shikaku had to have gone through all of... the nightmares and shadow issues at some point, of that Shikamaru was pretty sure. It was, as his father was fond of saying, a different time. There was no war on that drew adulthood out of children years before they were of age, there was less of a need to take on all the duties that an adult had. Shikamaru would never be called stupid, but that meant that he'd noticed that time and time again, it was in the small details that he found he didn't understand those older than him the most.

They knew so much more than he did, even if it wasn't in book smarts. There were more important things to life than that anyway. He wondered, if they'd had a war, grown up through one, if they, he and his classmates, would have turned out much different. Entertaining that idea, Shikamaru shook his head slowly. He couldn't imagine it. He didn't know how things would have been different.

This was his reality. There was no use in thinking of others. He stood, stretched, and checked the time. Still ridiculously early, of course, but Shikamaru closed his book and stood up anyway. He didn't know if anyone was up downstairs, but even if they weren't, he was starting to get hungry, and at fourteen, food took precedence over deep thinking.

He left the room, his shadow spilling across the floor in front of him like a carpet to walk on. His shadow was warm and for a second Shikamaru paused, glancing down at his feet.

It had felt, just for a moment, as if his shadow had a heartbeat of its own.

* * *

The kitchen was empty when he got down the stairs, through the wooden panelled hallway, and into the large space that served them as both a kitchen and a meeting area. It wasn't the only kitchen in the complex, of course, but it was this one that his family--more directly, his father and mother--used the most often so he considered it to be the one that was most _his_.

Pouring a glass of juice, he leant against the fridge and glanced down at his shadow. It pooled around his feet, around the legs of the table and the chairs, stretching even so far as to reach the wall. And none of it was draining chakra--if it had been, he'd have never made it down the stairs, having been knocked out long before from the drain on his energy.

"Come on," he muttered, taking a sip of his juice. "Don't you know what dad's going to say if he sees this?"

His shadow didn't seem to care. Shikamaru figured that that was about all he could expect from a shadow. As far as he knew, his shadow just considered this lapse in control and everything around it to be great. Certainly, it seemed to revel in its freedom.

Silently, as he figured that there was no point in waking up anyone else when they'd be up soon enough--the Nara family, on the whole, tended to wake with the sun despite his personal efforts to never see the sun rise--Shikamaru drained his juice and then grabbed an apple from the basket on the table. Absently he used his chakra, trying to tug his shadow in closer around his feet.

It ignored him. Shikamaru frowned as he bit into the apple. That was worse than usual. Normally, even if his shadow didn't fully obey him, it did tend to contract.

"That was pretty pathetic," a woman said from the doorway. "Your control is absolutely gone, boy. What _are_ they teaching kids these days?"

His head snapped up before she'd even finished the first word and Shikamaru scowled. He didn't recognize the woman, she _looked_ like a Nara, but he knew every Nara living in the complex and she wasn't one of them.

A tall woman, with a tight-fitting vest over an ordinary t-shirt and pants that had to be from a Chuunin uniform were tucked into a pair of knee high boots. She had a face that reminded him of a horse, and her eyes were pale green. Black hair spilled down her back, ending about mid-thigh.

"Who are you?" he demanded, hackles raised—no ordinary intruder could slip past the defenses of their Clan.

She looked at him as if he were an idiot.

"I said," he repeated, then stopped as a wave of dizziness crashed over him. Shikamaru swallowed hard, trying to surpass the sudden roaring in his ears as his head spun. He staggered, clutched at his head, and a small part of him wondered what the hell sort of jutsu she'd put him under… or if it was simply a reaction from his dreams…

"Easy," she said, as he sank to the ground. "It's easier if you don't resist it. You _will_ learn, boy."

His world went awash in white pain, blinding him…

The next thing he knew, Aunt Sadako's horsey face was peering at him in concern. Her long black hair was a mess, she looked like she'd just come in from checking the deer. Or from a mission.

"Shikamaru?" she asked, pale green eyes studying him intently. "What's wrong?"

He blinked, trying to clear his mind; there was something he couldn't remember it was just out of his reach, something important... "How did I get on the floor?" he asked, confused. Shikamaru remembered getting to the kitchen and having a glass of juice but after that… nothing.

Aunt Sadako barked a laugh, her strong arms helping him up, and Shikamaru allowed the minimal fussing as she helped him get to a chair. To his dismay, he needed her help. His legs were wobbly and weak. "You think I know, boy? I come in thinking to get a drink and find you on the floor. Lucky for you I've got some medical training, or I'd have had to rouse the whole Clan."

"Don't," he rasped, and wondered why his throat was so tight.

"Let's get you something to drink," she said and he watched her as she went to the fridge.

He peered at her, one hand rubbing his forehead—he had a headache and the nagging sense of there being something that he had to remember continued to plague him but all he was really interested was in figuring out how he'd wound up on the floor.

Aunt Sadako looked tired. He remembered vaguely that his father had mentioned she'd been out on a long term mission; she must have gotten home only recently, maybe even earlier that night, by the looks of her too thin face and the slight bags under her eyes. "How'd your mission go?" he asked as she pushed the juice on him and folded herself into another of the chairs, obviously waiting for him to drink it.

The juice was cool against his throat and he sipped it gratefully.

"It went," she answered, giving him a long glance and shrugging at that. "We accomplished the mission goals and made it back in one piece without gaining any new nightmares. That's all you can really ask for in a mission at my level. Just glad I never went into ANBU. That place, now _that's_ a deal breaker. No one ever comes out the same."

"Nightmares?" he asked, voice cracking despite his best effort. Shikamaru tried to cover that by drinking more but didn't think he'd succeeded in fooling her as her eyes narrowed.

"You look like you've been having trouble sleeping, boy." Aunt Sadako commented, getting up again and resting her callused hand on his forehead. "Well, you don't have a temperature. Are you up for some food?"

The thought of food made his stomach roll and he shook his head as quickly as he dared. "I'm good," he said, then asked, "does dad know you're back?"

"Not yet," she said, rifling through the cupboards and coming out with dry noodles. She held up the package. "Think he'd mind if I ate these?"

"He doesn't like those ones," Shikamaru answered, "but mom keeps buying them and he can't be bothered to tell her he hates them. He'd probably thank you for eating them—but isn't it early for noodles?" The sun wasn't even up yet.

"Got my days and nights all turned around," Aunt Sadako said easily, setting water to boil. "This is my suppertime. I'll spare my brother having to eat these then. _I_ like them just fine." She gave him a look full of mischief at that. "Maybe that'll keep him happy a little longer, hmmm? At least so long as I don't get another mission."

Shikamaru nodded. His dad wasn't fond of the fact that his younger sister was an active Jounin and they tended to have words about it whenever the both of them were in the same house for too long. "How long do you think they'll give you 'till your next mission?" She wasn't like his father—who was tied to the Clan and the business of managing it—Aunt Sadako didn't have any obligations towards running the Clan so she could be sent out at a moment's notice for longer missions.

"At least a month, I guess," Aunt Sadako replied while pouring the noodles in. "They're pretty good about giving time off unless anything comes up that's urgent. If that's the case then," she shrugged, "well, then I'll be off as soon as I get my orders. I heard you made Chuunin, so you'll probably be learning that soon if you haven't already."

"I've gotten a bit of it," he admitted, "but my teammates are still both Genin—they're off taking the Chuunin Exam right now, actually, so I'm a bit at a loose end." He didn't have to look up to know that she was arching her eyebrows at him.

"Surely they've got you doing missions with other teams?"

He flushed slightly, fiddling with his glass of juice. "I've been having problems with my shadow," Shikamaru answered her, realizing that his shadow was, for once, actually behaving itself for the moment. "Asuma-sensei has advised me that until I get it under control taking missions would likely serve to put my teammates in danger."

"Harsh," she said sympathetically. "You've got the whole range of it then, I bet—the nightmares, the dreams, the lack of control?"

Shikamaru blinked at her. "How do you know about the dreams?" He _knew_ that he hadn't told anyone about those, they never seemed to really be anything that needed to be dealt with. Odd-Ino was, well, _odd_ but she'd never harmed him, just confused him or made him a bit depressed.

Aunt Sadako's smile was rueful. "Who better to know than someone who went through the same thing? Every Nara gets the nightmares," she continued, turning to stir her noodles. "But not every one gets the dreams. The books aren't much help, I bet."

"They're no help at all," he answered, warming to his complaint. "They don't mention a single thing about any of it and there's nothing but vague mentions about walking through your shadow to gain control but whenever I ask dad about it he doesn't seem to know what I'm talking about even though I _know_ he's read the books before."

"Some books," she said, "are protected. Your dad, my brother, he's never gotten the dreams—just the nightmares. The books never talked about the walking through with him. When he says he doesn't know what you're talking about that's because he's never heard the phrase before."

"The book's got a jutsu on it?" Shikamaru frowned; he'd never considered that before. It was possible, he supposed, even if it seemed a bit complicated as a way of doing things. "So those who can read it, are they just supposed to muddle through on their own?"

A thought occurred to him. "Did _you_ just have to figure it all out as you went, Aunt Sadako?"

She shook her head, leaning over to turn the burner off and strained the noodles. "Your, oh let's see, your great great uncle taught me. Now he was an odd duck, the stories I could tell you about him..." Shaking her head, she continued, "It's not common, the dreams, but there's usually someone in the Clan who knows how to help out with the situation before it spirals out of control."

Shikamaru couldn't help the frown that pulled at his lips. "Then why—" _Why hasn't anyone helped me out?_

Her laugh was knowing, and Shikamaru was surprised to find that when she set down a bowl of noodles with a mild cheese sauce over them in front of him that he was actually hungry. He ignored her amused gaze as he dug in.

"Why didn't anyone help you?" Aunt Sadako asked.

He nodded, feeling the dull burn of a flush crawl over his face. "It's been a while, that's all," Shikamaru muttered into his noodles.

"Probably because, in the whole Clan, I'm the only one still living who knows how to deal with the dreams," she said, almost apologetically. "And I was away on a mission so I didn't know. There used to be more, but the last few wars were pretty hard on the Clans, so…"

Oh. That made a depressing sort of sense. "Then," Shikamaru asked, looking up from his bowl and feeling mildly hopeful. "You're off for a month—do you think, I mean, would you be able to help me sort this out? I've done my best but…"

"But your best isn't good enough." Her lips twisted. "Believe me, boy. I know exactly how you feel." Aunt Sadako ate another bit of pasta. "And of course I'll help you—that's what family is for—but first…"

"First?"

"I need to get some sleep," she said, with an easy laugh. "Meet me on the south bridge at about three this afternoon."

"Why on the bridge?" Shikamaru asked curiously.

"Why not?" Aunt Sadako asked rhetorically as she finished off her bowl, got up, and rinsed it out in the sink. "Besides, it's easier to deal with if you're not in the loving center of everyone else's shadows."

She covered a yawn with one hand, looking exhausted. "Anyway," she said, "I'll see you then."

Then she left the room, shaking her head, and Shikamaru looked down at his bowl of noodles and considered everything that she'd said.

He had the feeling that the hours until three o'clock were going to be long ones.

* * *

Please review!


	2. Follow My Lead

Title: Walk Through Shadow  
Chapter: 02 Follow My Lead  
Author/Artist: Killaurey  
Disclaimer: Naruto doesn't belong to me. It's Kishimoto's and I just play with it. AU immediately after the Sasuke Retrieval Arc. Part 2 of 7. Unbeta'd. Thanks so much to all who read, review, and lurk!

Notes: This is a side story to _Slow Burn_. It's not absolutely necessary to read Slow Burn, but it would probably help explain the backstory!

[Shikamaru centric] While Ino is off in Kumogakure for the Chuunin Exams, Shikamaru's nightmares worsen and his control over his shadow unravels. Getting it together again means facing his worst enemy—himself.

* * *

He had just finished his noodles when his father came down the stairs.

Shikaku, still sleep-rumpled, gave Shikamaru a contemplative look on his way to the coffee machine, and called over his shoulder, "Isn't it too early for that?"

Shikamaru shrugged. "Aunt Sadako wanted them and made some for me too. She's back from her mission, but if you want to talk to her you'd better wait until later—she's crashed out for the time being."

His father paused, hand hovering over the coffee, and it didn't take a genius to note the sudden tension. "Back from her mission?"

"At about four this morning," he answered with a glance at his father's back, trying to decide if there'd been something… odd about his father's voice or not before getting up to rinse the bowl out. There was no point in leaving dirty dishes around--not when his mom would be sure to have words with him about that.

Shikamaru made the decision to not tell his father that she'd come in to find him on the floor and that he couldn't remember how he'd gotten there.

He figured that it had probably been the shadow that had messed him up in the first place and Aunt Sadako _had_ promised to help him with his shadow… so dealing with the one would render dealing with the other completely unnecessary. He leaned against the counter and studied his dad's back. "You okay? You look a bit... pale."

Shikaku shook his head. "I'm fine, son," he answered and deftly finished his work with the coffee machine and turned it on. "It's good to know that she's--back." Despite his words, Shikamaru thought his father still looked rather pale for someone who was 'fine'.

...like father, like son, he supposed, a bit ruefully. Hadn't he said the same thing to Aunt Sadako earlier?

He wasn't sure what to make of that statement though. "She offered to help me with my control," Shikamaru continued, hoping that that wouldn't put his father out. But Aunt Sadako had known what she was talking about...

"That so?"

"If that's alright with you," Shikamaru added, not sure what to make of his father's reactions this morning. "Are you _sure_ you're alright?"

"I'm fine," Shikaku repeated as the coffee percolated. "What time does she want you for?"

"Three."

"Then three she'll get you for," Shikamaru couldn't see his dad's face but he had the impression that he was smiling slightly at that. "Or she'll get, as you say, troublesome at me for keeping you away when she's supposed to be imparting her wisdom. Let her know I want to talk to her, would you?"

"Sure," Shikamaru said easily. "Did you have anything you needed me for this morning? Otherwise, I was just planning on training until it was time to go meet up with her." It wasn't like, he'd get a mission or anything like that. And most of his friends were out of the village for the moment.

Shikamaru had never thought that he'd be lonely with them gone, but he was. It was... unsettling.

"We've been having a few problems with some of the deer in the fourth sector," his father said, pouring a cup of coffee and taking a sip. "You want to come earn your keep and help deal with that mess?"

Shikamaru turned that over in his head—it wasn't something he was thrilled to do, to be honest—but he wasn't sure if his father was really up to it—Shikaku was still looking pale—but that was, Shikamaru decided, even more of a reason for him to go with him. To keep an eye out.

Even if that reasoning would likely make his father either laugh or say something along the lines of 'I've been taking care of myself long before you came along, son'. "No problem," Shikamaru said, "it's the buck again, isn't it? The one that's been acting weirdly?"

"Mm," Shikaku answered. "So far it's nothing that spreads, but… well, best to get on it before it gets serious."

Shikamaru finished washing the bowls and methodically dried them. It gave his hands something to do while he thought, and despite his mother's pithy observations about his laziness, Shikamaru actually didn't mind cleaning much at all.

It took more effort, after all, to find something in a mess than it did to take a few minutes every day to keep a mess from happening.

"When did you want to head out?" he asked, putting the bowls back in the cupboard. His mother would probably claim to be surprised that he'd bothered. Shikamaru considered it almost worth doing just to surprise her mother like that—and keeping her in a good mood was generally something useful to do unless it was more troublesome than dealing with her in a bad mood.

And, well, his mother had been really good about his sleeping habits of late. Shikamaru wondered if his father had said anything to her—but asking his dad would only discomfit him no matter if he had or not—it just meant that, right now, doing something for his mother, especially something as easy as this… wasn't really a pain in the butt.

"Give me half an hour," Shikaku said, "and you—go get properly dressed. You look like something a cat would drag in.

"No cat would drag me in," he retorted, heading for the hallway. His hair was starting to bug him from being down anyway. Time to put it up and have it out of his way for the day. "They'd give up halfway through just because it'd be too much effort."

"You'd be surprised," his father called, with the accompanying sound of more coffee being poured. "At what a cat will drag in."

Shikamaru smiled as he trudged back up the stairs.

* * *

He'd been right in suspecting that the time until three o'clock in the afternoon would take forever.

It felt like a day and a half by the time that he'd showered again (working with the deer always left him smelly and Shikamaru, while he wasn't opposed to deer, was opposed to constantly smelling like one) and headed out for the bridge.

Hair still damp and hands stuffed in his pockets, he mulled over what Aunt Sadako had talked about with him that morning before leaving. It was a conversation that raised more questions than it bothered with answering them—but at the same time, he found that he couldn't be minded by that; not when she was going to be answering his questions and helping him figure out how to control his shadow.

Shikamaru cast a glance at his shadow and frowned. For some reason it had been far better behaved than it usually was and that was a bit disconcerting. All through the forest while working with his father and the others—various uncles and cousins—it had remained inert and well within the bounds of how a 'normal' shadow behaved. As much as any Nara's shadow could be considered normal, Shikamaru thought wryly.

He wondered why it hadn't caused the troubles he'd almost become accustomed to having happen. Not that he _wanted_ it to misbehave, Shikamaru amended hastily, just in case his shadow got the idea that he'd missed it acting up or something, but it was a bit unusual.

And as a shinobi he was trained to notice the unusual. There was still the issue of what had happened that morning... Shikamaru shrugged irritably and continued his deliberate pace through the streets of the village towards the bridge. He could ask Aunt Sadako. That was all there was for it.

A tiny part of him protested and murmured sleepily about how he kept winding up with 'ask Aunt Sadako' as a default. Wasn't he, it muttered, supposed to think things through on his own?

Wincing off the first hint of a headache as he considered trying to figure things out on his own, Shikamaru shook his head. He was only fourteen; he couldn't be expected to know everything. Aunt Sadako had the answers so why not ask her? Shikamaru didn't notice as the twinges of phantom pain faded away once he decided on that course of action.

The breeze carried on it the hint of rain despite the fact that the sun beat down on the cool winter day. Shikamaru cast an eye up at the sky and sighed. It was too much to hope for that the weather would stay dry for much longer. Winters in Konoha tended to be wet and hoping for otherwise was like wishing on a falling star. Just a silly superstition.

Aunt Sadako might know why his father had been acting a bit--oddly--whenever he'd brought her up earlier too. Shikamaru couldn't pin it down, but several times he'd caught his father staring off into space looking indescribable and even if he asked what was wrong, he never got an answer. Just 'everything is fine'.

Shikamaru stepped onto the bridge, noticed that he'd beaten his aunt to it, and leaned against the railing, looking out over the river that ran beneath it. He might, he thought, have to consider quitting answering questions with the word 'fine'. If it irritated him that much... surely it had to irritate others more.

He grinned suddenly. Maybe he'd start responding to Ino with that. No matter what she said. That happy thought got a laugh out of him. He could picture her eyes narrowing at him, hands on her hips, nose turned up the way she always did when she was getting pissy about something…

It would probably take her less than an afternoon to get fed up with it and explode at him. Or fuss. Or--

"Oh! You're already here!" Aunt Sadako laughed as she came up to him looking far more rested than she had that morning. Her hair had been tossed into a quick ponytail that bounced as she walked and as she came closer he could see that it was still damp. "Sorry! I over-slept a bit; I hope you weren't waiting long?"

"Che," he answered, shrugging at her.

"Surely," she said, matching him in dryness, "you've got more of an answer than that?"

"You're a girl," Shikamaru said, deadpan, "you were born to be troublesome."

Aunt Sadako whapped him soundly over the head for _that_ impertinence. "And you'd better remember it, boy. Troublesome is as troublesome does and it's a great deal of fun. But enough about me—how has your day been?"

He rubbed his head--she hadn't hurt him, but it was part of the show--and heaved a sigh. "Full of four-legged animals," Shikamaru said dryly, "who think that everything that comes within their reach is food." Including pants, flak vests, hair, skin...

"We do spoil them a bit," she admitted lightly, walking right past him and tilting her head in a silent command to follow her. "They wouldn't get near so much consideration if they weren't being taken care of by us--but that's nothing that hurts anyone. Did you have time while dealing with our furry friends to think about what we'd talked about earlier?"

"Not as much as I'd wanted to," he answered as he walked after her. "Dad was pretty determined to have me actually _work_ since I was idiotic enough to agree to help out."

"Your own fault then," Aunt Sadako said cheerfully. "I have no sympathy for you. Hard work is good for children--makes them mind their place."

"Oh?" he asked, amused. "What if they don't want to mind their place?"

Her eyes sparkled as she turned to look over her shoulder at him. "Then," Aunt Sadako said, "you beat them until they get the message."

He laughed at that, a quick one, as he hadn't expected her to actually say that. "Does that mean you're going to beat me?"

"Nah," she said, waving one hand. "Too much effort. Besides, I'm sure you're sick enough now of the nightmares to actually want to pay attention to me. When _I_ first got them, I ignored all offers of help until I really needed it." She blew her hair out of her face. "I was a real idiot. Lucky me that I never got my fool self killed out on a mission because of that."

He nodded soberly; despite the lightness of her words, Shikamaru could read the meaning in them and took it to heart. He did need help and nothing anyone else had done had been able to help him so far. "Where are we going?" he asked, looking around at streets that he rarely traversed. "You've obviously got a place in mind."

"It's a family place," she assured him blithely, all without actually answering the question. "You'll understand once you get there--we didn't always live where we do now, actually, and Nara's one of the oldest Clans."

He nodded his understanding. That made sense to him. Everyone who knew anything about the history of Konohagakure knew Nara had been one of the first Clans in the area. The forests and many rivers provided well for the deer that they were known for and they were loathe to give that up in the face of opposition—even to the point of taking up weapons and becoming ninja to protect them.

And all Clans held their secrets, whether they be great or small ones. Shikamaru knew that well enough. How often had Chouji avoided directly answering a question of his or Ino's—or, for that matter, how often did Ino actually bother answering any questions put to her lately?

As they went further along their family traditions the walls of secrets between them became higher. It didn't make the friendship any less strong; in a way it made it stronger, for they were friends despite the fact that they couldn't discuss everything under the sun, but there were times when it seemed awfully lonely.

"Aunt Sadako?" he asked, stepping up his pace until he could match hers.

She glanced at him, pale green eyes lively with good humour. "Yeah?"

"What happened to your team?" Shikamaru doubted it was a good story—he knew from experience that older shinobi who didn't talk openly about their teams tended to not because they didn't _have_ teams any longer.

When he'd been younger he'd often thought that it was a nuisance that his father's team had survived, only losing their sensei to the wars, because that meant a never-ending round of stories about how his father and the rest of his team, Ino's dad and Chouji's too, had managed to make it through alive.

Now he waited for an answer from his aunt.

After the last year and a half of active duty, Shikamaru had changed his mind on the troublesome nature of stories told about teams that survived. _Let me and Ino and Chouji live that long_, he thought instead, _long enough to annoy everyone with _our_ stories_.

Aunt Sadako's eyes grew contemplative. "Why?" she asked, tilting her head. "They're dead, boy. I carry my team in my heart, but that won't bring them back and life is best spent living in the present--not dwelling in the past."

Shikamaru walked alongside her for a few steps, giving that due consideration and not just saying the first anything that came to mind--she didn't deserve that, not at all, and not from him. She was right, after all, that it was better to live in the present than in the past.

"Because," he said eventually, "because they're part of you--and... they've got to be part of your nightmares."

He knew they had to be. What else but a team and a family could figure so prominently into someone's subconscious? A love interest? Probably, he allowed. Shikamaru doubted that someone's loyalty to their village, no matter how strong, would make their nightmares focus on _everyone_ in the village as a whole. Each shinobi was a small, but vital, part of the village. They could only care for so many other small parts.

"My nightmares," Aunt Sadako's lips twisted as she looked at the path they were following. They walked along the inside wall of the village and Shikamaru was mildly curious. He didn't have much reason for coming out in this direction and hadn't been aware that Nara had _anything_ out this way, much less that they'd had something here that had been in the Clan for ages.

"You know," she said, her voice a bit wistful, "you never really get used to them. I know my brother says you do, and in a way he's right--but it's not what happens in them that you get used to. You just grow certain that they'll happen, whether you want to have them happen or not, and eventually you adjust to the fact that they're going to keep happening. But you never get used to seeing the people you love die..."

Shikamaru was almost sorry he'd asked; she sounded so sad. He didn't take the question back though. If she didn't want to answer, he knew that Aunt Sadako wouldn't. While she worked through his question in her own way, he noticed that the grass was starting to get longer, more unkempt, and that the buildings looked older. He frowned slightly as he mentally retraced their steps and realized that they were in the original village boundaries now.

Everything around them had been here since the founding of the village. He'd known Nara had been one of the first Clans to join, but he hadn't realized they were so close to the heart of the village—right from the start. Hair's raised on the back of his neck. He knew that the First Hokage's home was in this district, that it was unlived in, but up-kept out of tradition and honour.

Shikamaru resolved to come back here, without Aunt Sadako, and explore a bit—

--_pain_ flooded through his head, he stumbled, faintly hearing a woman's voice asking him something, talking to him as from far away but he didn't catch most of the words, something about letting it go and not thinking and then things swirled uncomfortably, his stomach swooping and all he knew was that his world had melted into a red-haze, black out, sort of pain—

"Shikamaru?" Aunt Sadako had her hands on her hips and the way she frowned did nothing to hide the concern in her eyes.

He blinked carefully up at her. "H-How did I end up on the ground?" Shikamaru winced, his throat was so dry his voice rasped and Aunt Sadako knelt down beside him.

"You tripped," she said, sounding younger for a moment and he blinked _hard_ when she wavered—for a second not looking like herself at all—before he was staring at the familiar form of his aunt. "I told you, you've got to quit thinking."

What? "I don't—"

She covered his eyes with one hand and sighed, sounding girlish. "I'm not doing this to hurt you. You'd better remember that. My brother would never forgive me."

Shikamaru didn't have time to puzzle through that as his shadow spilt up his sides, up his arms, up his chest, and he couldn't even see since her hand never moved from his eyes and the shadow kept him from shifting and then his shadow was creeping up over his face, his nose, his mouth, spilling over his eyes and for a second he thought he was going to drown on his own shadow as his thoughts faded out—

They walked along the street, Shikamaru waiting for Aunt Sadako to answer his question about her team, and he hoped that they weren't too much further from the place she knew. His spill that morning, when she'd first come back, must have taken more out of him than he'd thought because he felt weak and tired and for the first time Shikamaru was glad he hadn't had to run a mission today.

"My team, to tell you the truth, at first I hated them."

"Hated them?"

She raised her eyebrows at him and nodded. "It's true. I didn't want to be on a team with a dumbass boy who barely knew a kunai from a shuriken, or on the same team as a boy who thought he was god's gift to all women even though we were only nine." Aunt Sadako sounded amused despite her words.

This was, he realized, something she fondly remembered now--something that hadn't been funny at the time but had become something to dream of.

"My sensei was no better," she continued. "Oh, don't get me wrong--he was _skilled_--but he wasn't a good teacher; not someone comfortable with kids at all, he wanted soldiers and we just weren't ready to be nothing but miniatures of the adults we saw running around all day. Not at that time, not fresh out of the Academy. But he tried his best... and we learned soon enough that the Academy was worlds away from the reality of the battlefield. They never managed to express that in training, no matter how many exercises we ran, or how many sessions we had about learning to close ourselves off and just do the job..."

Shikamaru listened, fascinated as she talked. This wasn't anything his father had ever mentioned to him before. His stories had always come later, the ones set after they'd already developed into a team that anyone would have difficulties taking out. Never first thing out of the Academy and hating your team.

Aunt Sadako shook her head. "Kureno-sensei--he got used to us, I guess. By the end of the first year, even if we weren't the soldiers he'd wanted when he'd gotten slated for teaching three green as grass brats, he'd adjusted and we'd gotten smarter at dealing with the situations flung at us." Aunt Sadako glanced sidelong at him. "There were no missions dealing with unruly dogs or missing cats for us, boy. Try learning teamwork on a battlefield where you've got to run a courier mission with a team you hate and you've _got_ to rely on them anyway because if you don't, if you make one misstep then you're dead."

Shikamaru tried to imagine it. Tried to picture him, Chouji, and Ino dealing with that and shook his head. He couldn't. "I can't," he said, because she seemed to expect some sort of any answer from him. "I'm selfishly glad we didn't have to grow up that way."

"You'll see the problems with your way when you've got a little more experience," she answered and Shikamaru frowned. What problems?

But she didn't seem inclined to answer that and went on with his original question. "Kazuma and Hiiro were good boys, thinking back on it," she continued, "but at the time, I thought being on a team with the two of them was torture. I envied my brother the way he had a team that just seemed to _click_, just like that, and how he never seemed to have the problems we had to work through. Teamwork requires effort and all of us had to figure that out."

"Don't all teams need effort?" he asked, almost tentatively, not wanting to disrupt her disjointed story, but curious enough to ask. She seemed willing enough to talk, at least, so he hoped that Aunt Sadako knew that if she said she didn't want to go further into it that he would… respect that. It was easy to respect something like that.

Aunt Sadako appeared to consider that as she deftly picked their path through the winding roads of this very old section of Konoha. "Yes," she said, "and no."

He snorted.

She laughed. "Not much of an answer is it? But it's truth enough. All teams need effort to coordinate, but some teams need effort to communicate and that's a different problem entirely. It's like the difference between a… pie shell and a finished pie."

"…are you hungry, Aunt Sadako?" Shikamaru asked dryly. "Because we could probably find a place that sells pie, if you'd like." He had never heard of teams being compared to pie before.

He was relatively certain that he never would again, too.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "Oh, I'm making a mess of this, aren't I? I guess _I'm_ not much of a teacher either, but that's not really my fault, I never really…" she trailed off for a moment before picking up the thread of her conversation, "I really do mean it—they're both pie, at least in shape, but one's filled in while the other is still needing to be filled. A pie that needs to coordinate is one that just needs to be cooked, you understand? But one that's only a shell needs to figure out how to get filling before it can go anywhere near an oven."

That… actually made some bit of sense. Shikamaru frowned in thought. "So if dad's team was a pie that just needed to be cooked… your team was a pie that had no filling?"

…if they kept talking about pies he was going to start craving one himself. Thinking that made him wish Chouji was around; Chouji would know exactly where to get the best sort of pies. As it was, he resolved to simply ignore the idea that maybe it'd be a good idea to go out and buy one.

"Pretty much," she said cheerfully. "But we got it filled in the end, so it worked out. Some teams never do get the filling right and those are the ones that are the most tragic."

He opened his mouth to ask about _that_--how they were the most tragic as, to his mind, the teams that were... poorly cooked pies, but otherwise whole, that wound up falling apart and splitting were the most depressing to think about it--but she brightened up, her eyes lighting on what, to him, looked like nothing more than a shabby temple to some forgotten god.

"We're here!" she exclaimed, going up the stairs with an easy, reckless grace and tossing over her shoulder the comment, "Watch your step, some of the stairs are loose and I never have the time to fix them."

He followed her warily finding that she was right about the fact that the steps were loose--more than half of them shifted under his feet and Shikamaru wondered if Aunt Sadako had _any_ time to keep the place up, or if any amount of effort would rescue it from the disrepair that it found itself in. It looked as if, even if it belonged to his family, they'd forgotten it a long time ago.

"I can't believe this thing is still standing," he muttered, shoving some sort of flowering vine out of his way and following her up the steps. Shikamaru took them slowly, feeling out each one before putting his weight on them. For all that they shifted under his feet, they seemed otherwise solid. "Why wouldn't someone have gotten rid of this place to make room for apartments, or something?" They were within the village walls, after all, and he knew that there was talk of expanding them yet again to handle the growth in population.

"Oh," Aunt Sadako answered, pausing at the door that was half hidden in the same vines that trailed down the sides of the temple and clogged the steps. "They can't do that. It's in Nara's contract with the village. This is ours for all eternity."

"Then why hasn't it been taken care of?" He knew his family and while a great many of them were of the school of 'oh, it's good enough' when it came to repairs and cleaning, this situation, this ramshackle temple--was that half the roof that had caved in on that one side?--Shikamaru was pretty sure that this situation went far beyond what even the laziest of them would think was 'good enough' to leave as is. "Ancestral lands, in the founding contract even, wouldn't it be--"

"You'd think that," she admitted, shoving at the door. It was stuck, he surmised, from the way that it was sticking when she tried to open it. Aunt Sadako took a deep breath and shoved hard at it. The door creaked open and he winced as assorted debris tumbled down--mostly leaves and the like, but still...

Ugh.

"But Shikamaru, not everyone can see this place." Aunt Sadako's face for a moment looked awfully fey as she grinned over her shoulder at him. "Come on, you've only seen the outside of it. I promise, the inside is more interesting."

Shikamaru blinked. "Not see this place?"

"You'll understand later," she said impatiently. "In, boy. I don't want to stand on these steps for too long—do you really trust them enough to do that?"

That was a good point, he admitted, and followed her in. The inside of the temple was pitch dark and he took a few shuffling steps inside before the door closed behind him with a soft _shush_ of moving air. Shikamaru jerked his head to look back. "Is that supposed to happen?"

"It's rigged that way," Aunt Sadako's voice echoed from ahead of him. "Stay there, I'll get the lanterns lit. They've gone out since the last time I was here, not really a surprise, but what a pain, seriously..."

She continued to mutter to herself while (presumably) working on getting to the lanterns. Shikamaru closed his eyes for thirty seconds, counting the numbers backwards, to let his eyes adjust to the sudden change in lighting, and then opened his eyes again. This time, he could faintly see Aunt Sadako's outline as she moved near what he guessed was the back of the temple.

Other than that he could pick out the outlines of what looked like either low padded benches or... the hairs on the back of his neck raised at the thought, a bit like the table that he saw every night in Odd-Ino's realm before his dreams. Shikamaru swallowed. He didn't need, or want, to think that he was in the dark and surrounded by that sort of table.

He didn't need, he thought wryly, to develop a fear of a piece of furniture either, but all the same--it gave him the creeps. What would any temple do with a roomful of low tables? If, he amended, they even were tables. It was too dark to make out the details, anything more than the vague outline if he were being fully honest with himself, and Shikamaru was content enough to let that be.

No way was he going to _touch_ one. Who knew what was on them after being in a run-down place like this for so long? And... if they were tables... after his experience last night, he was less than inclined to go around touching ones that might be the match to the one in his subconscious.

There was a triumphant sound from the back of the temple and then a small wavering light came into view. "Got one," Aunt Sadako called cheerfully. "Just a second, the rest will be quicker, I promise."

"Alright," he said, glad to see even that small bit of light, and Shikamaru watched in silence as she walked around the temple with surefootedness that spoke of many hours having been spent in this building and lit the lanterns that were, he saw now, hanging on the walls at even intervals.

The light revealed an area that was a lot tidier than he'd assumed from the outside of the building. Dark tile--a really dark blue, he thought--was on the floor, the walls had been white originally, but the pain had cracked and was peeling and bubbled in spots. In one area, the ceiling was sagging quite alarmingly and Shikamaru held his breath as Aunt Sadako walked beneath it without a care in the world. At the back of the temple there was some sort of pedestal and...

"What's with all the tables?" He tried to avoid looking at them even as part of his mind scathed that he had to be the only teenager _ever_ to be _scared of tables_.

He had the feeling that Aunt Sadako was laughing at him. "What are tables normally used for?" she asked, lighting the last few of the lanterns and turning to look at him. "Are you alright?"

The real concern in her voice gave him pause enough to shake his head and forcibly attempt to ignore the tables. "I'll be fine," he said, pleased that he'd remembered to avoid saying that he _was_ fine. That would be too close to a lie. "The tables—they're like the ones in my dreams."

She glanced at them. "They were a really popular style about a hundred years ago," Aunt Sadako said, "but other than that I don't know much about them—do they do anything in your dreams?"

"I entered a nightmare through one once," he said, aware of how insane that sounded. "But mostly I just—have tea on them." With Odd-Ino, but now that he was here, in this place, he felt oddly reluctant to talk about her.

Shikamaru glanced down at the floor and paused. "…where did my shadow go?" He twisted about, attempting to locate it, but his shadow reminded conspicuously absent.

"Further in," she answered him and pointed to her feet. "See? Mine's gone as well."

That was, he decided, the creepiest thing about this place so far. He felt oddly naked without his shadow; it was such a part of him that he'd never considered that it could be taken away.

Stupid really, he realized, to think that. Anything could be taken away, even something that was as taken for granted as a shadow. Ino could take away free will—why shouldn't some clan out there be able to steal shadows?

"How does the temple do that?"

"Well," she said, tilting her head at the back of the temple. "What do you do when you get home after a long day of work?"

"Mom's normally in the kitchen," he said, "so I tend to go and…" Shikamaru stopped and stared at Aunt Sadako. "You mean our shadows are visiting their _parents_?"

She rolled her shoulders. "Pretty much. There's a few differences, but—yeah. They're talking to good ol' mom and dad, if you want the simplest explanation."

He counted to ten. Then, when that didn't seem to help, counted to one hundred.

"This is becoming more troublesome with every word you speak."

* * *

Please review!


	3. Familial Secrets

Title: Walk Through Shadow  
Chapter: 03 Familial Secrets  
Author/Artist: Killaurey  
Disclaimer: Naruto doesn't belong to me. It's Kishimoto's and I just play with it. AU immediately after the Sasuke Retrieval Arc. Part 3of 7. Unbeta'd. Thanks so much to all who read, review, and lurk!

Notes: This is a side story to _Slow Burn_. It's not absolutely necessary to read Slow Burn, but it would probably help explain the backstory!

[Shikamaru centric] While Ino is off in Kumogakure for the Chuunin Exams, Shikamaru's nightmares worsen and his control over his shadow unravels. Getting it together again means facing his worst enemy—himself.

* * *

His words seemed to land heavily in the lighted temple. Shikamaru found his eyes drawn to a table that looked like the one he'd fallen through and quickly jerked his eyes away from it.

Just a resemblance, he mentally insisted.

"Some things," Aunt Sadako said, seeming almost regretful, "never fully make sense when you apply logic to them, Shikamaru."

"I don't believe that," he answered her, frowning at the ground. He missed his shadow. This was weird. "I choose not to believe that. Everything should have an explanation that's perfectly congruent with logic."

Logic was comforting—especially when it came to pointing out flaws in other peoples' plans. Then, the ability to apply logic was a skill that was valued highly. At the moment there were no plans from the enemy to disrupt. Only a situation he rather seriously wanted answers and solutions to.

"I know what you're thinking," Aunt Sadako said, green eyes a mystery. "Like most of our family you'd rather trust that which has a solid explanation."

"Doesn't everyone?" he asked dryly, knowing that was true of his father and uncles at least. (Shikamaru wasn't entirely sure, still, that logic existed on the same reality as women. He'd learn better eventually.) "Feelings and things aren't reliable." Nor were they something he particularly wanted to be relying on constantly.

Shikamaru was not a teenaged girl. He suppressed a shudder at that thought.

"Think on this, then," Aunt Sadako suggested, seeming unperturbed by his attitude which was something that marked her as different when contrasted to his mother. Nara Yoshino would not have stood for even half of his impertinences today under the same situation. "What is intuition?"

What _was_ it? Shikamaru blinked at her, thinking that was a pretty obvious thing to be asking. "It's feeling—a gut sort of instinct that tells you when something is right or wrong to say or do."

Aunt Sadako tilted her head at him. "Would you say that intuition just comes out of nowhere and strikes at whim, then?"

"No," he said slowly, "but what does that have to do with anything?"

"Think of intuition as a combination of details so minor that your conscious mind doesn't register them as having any great meaning," she suggested, folding herself down at one of the tables and gesturing for him to take a seat. "Things that you can't put a conscious finger on why they matter but somehow ping on your radar anyway."

Shikamaru gave the table she was at—not the one he saw in his dreams, thankfully—a long dubious glance before he took a seat. He remained careful not to actually touch the thing, though. It was likely over-cautious but he figured that being overly cautious wouldn't hurt anything. Tables didn't have feelings, after all, and Aunt Sadako's gaze understood. "And you're saying that intuition, when looked at that way, is just the culmination of all the little details that are noticed on one level? But that can't actually be explained? So that rather than being anything like--illogic or feelings it's actually... logically based."

Shikamaru was, honestly, rather dubious about that.

Aunt Sadako nodded, her eyes never leaving his face "Exactly," she answered, "so will you be willing to consider that that may be in fact the case for the moment and allow the explanations to come as they do?"

Shikamaru considered that, staring down at the table, this one just plain wood thank goodness. "I can try," he said finally. "But I don't know how successful I'll be."

"Trying," Aunt Sadako answered, "is all that anyone can expect of each other."

They studied each other in silence and Shikamaru wondered where he was to begin asking his questions. "How old were you," he asked finally, "when you first started having nightmares like mine?"

She tapped her fingers against the wood of the table, the noise making him twitch. "Nine," she replied. "I was younger than you, you understand. The world was harder then--everyone went to war at a younger age and our imaginations had far more nightmares to produce. I am sure you can imagine how those two correlate."

Shikamaru thought of the number of nightmares that he'd found developing ever since he'd gotten back from the mission to rescue Uchiha from his own stupidity. He nodded. "I can--understand that," he said slowly, "though I don't think that it's entirely fair to blame us for the fact that we've been luckier than your generation has been, Aunt Sadako."

She rubbed her face. "I do sound a bit bitter then, don't I?" Aunt Sadako shook her head. "I'm sorry, it's complicated to explain. Yes, I'm very glad that your generation has been luckier, but it's also something that..."

A pause. "Part of me thinks is unfair. Why didn't my generation get the same chances?"

"Who can say that your generation didn't get the same chances?" Shikamaru asked, leaning forward but still refusing to place his arms on the table. Better not to risk it, he felt, even if it was becoming an increasingly silly worry amidst the rest of the temple. For some reason, the temple felt safe, and he wasn't sure what to make of that. As a shinobi he wasn't supposed to entirely trust his feelings like that.

But at the same time, sometimes, feelings had their place and his were telling him that here, no matter what happened here, he'd be safe enough. Shikamaru couldn't pin down exactly why that was but it helped sooth the tenseness in his shoulders as he watched his aunt tug her hitae-ite about and make a face as she realized the state of her hair. _Girls_.

"You've lost me," she admitted, giving him a sheepish grin at that. Shikamaru found himself feeling just a little more settled; it was nice knowing someone who didn't take offense to every little thing he disagreed with. "We had the same chances?"

"I don't know the exact details," Shikamaru said slowly, "as you say, it was your generation, not mine, but isn't it true that every generation starts out on the same level--it's them who decide what to make of the rest of their lives? So, in following that, maybe your generation had the same chances, but the playing board you had to work with was levelled differently. Personally," he continued, "I think you did a pretty good job with what you guys had to deal with. I mean--you did it, right? Peace was fought for and obtained."

For a few years. But that was the way of the shinobi world and both of them knew that. Peace and war were caught in a never-ending cycle.

He took a moment, while she gathered her thoughts, to look around the temple. Paint was peeling from the walls, having bubbled up in places, air pockets having formed underneath, and Shikamaru asked again, "Why is this place so run down?"

"You make a bizarre amount of sense for a teenager," Aunt Sadako said and, when he turned to look at her, grinned impishly. "And to answer your second question, well--where do you think we are?" Her green eyes were level and earnest so he decided to indulge her with the sidetracking. This time, he thought, it might lead to an answer that he could make sense of.

"A temple of some sort," Shikamaru answered, studying the tables and the floor--it was dusty rather than ruined, but the grit and dirt made it beyond filthy. His mother would've thrown a fit at the sight of it. "That's belongs to the family, though I've never heard that we worship or follow any religion beyond the Will of Fire that is said to embody all of Konoha's ninja."

Aunt Sadako nodded solemnly. "That's right," she replied. "We don't follow anything else in terms of gods. In point of fact, the reason we've got a temple at all was because it was the easiest way to deal with what goes on here."

Yet another answer that he was sure would make sense if only he had the proper background. Shikamaru remained silent and just raised one eyebrow inquiringly.

"You're a patient boy," she noted. "I wasn't nearly so patient when I was your age. Anyway, the temple is only usable by one in each generation."

Shikamaru looked around the temple again. "You... and me?"

That was interesting. They were, indeed, two separate generations but he wasn't sure what the point of that was. "Why would we have a temple that only one person or so every generation can use?"

"Because it's a repository," Aunt Sadako replied, shifting so she could settle herself more comfortably. Her elbows rested idly on the hard wood of the table and Shikamaru tried not to wince when she touched the table. "Not of knowledge though. I wouldn't call it a fount of wisdom, and you're not going to find all that many books here that hold mystical secrets or anything though we've got a few that used to be in the family library and then got forgot here at one point or another..."

"What is this a repository of then?" Tables?

"Haven't you guessed?" Her smile was tinged with wry amusement. "Shadow."

It would be, he thought, the height of rudeness to scold his father's sister, his aunt, for saying something that sounded so utterly ridiculous and troublesome. Shikamaru opened his mouth to protest anyway (he'd never been a paragon of politeness anyway and he surely had no plans to ever be considered as such) when he realized that his shadow was still missing. Swallowing as he put that together with what she'd just said. "Our shadows," he said abruptly, "they've gone to gain--knowledge--or something from the other shadows?"

For there had to be other shadows. Now that his attention had been brought to the fact, Shikamaru could vaguely sense the tickling pressure against the palms of his hands that signified the press of other shadows nearby. He hadn't noticed, Shikamaru realized, because they'd been registering as family. The hairs on the back of his neck began rising.

"Knowledge?" Aunt Sadako considered that. "I suppose that's what they're doing. Gossiping is more likely, though, but you can learn something even under those circumstances so I wouldn't say the talk that they're having is exactly useless."

Gossiping shadows were more than he wanted to think about right then and there. Especially with what else that had occurred to him while he'd added the facts all together and came up with answers that distressed him. "Is this some sort of--shadow grave site?" he asked abruptly, fully expecting her to laugh it off, tell him it was a ridiculous idea, or something.

She dashed his hopes.

"Yes," she answered simply. "The shadows of our ancestors remain in this building--that's why Nara will never allow it to be bought out nor will they get rid of it under any circumstances. In fact, even trying to sell it was crime enough in the family to get yourself exiled from the Clan when I was your age."

Shikamaru blinked at her, still stuck on the fact that she'd agreed with an idea that he'd mostly considered ludicrous and one that he'd much rather have gone on considering as such. "It _is_ a grave?"

"There's no bodies here," Aunt Sadako assured him, and somehow he believed her. More intuition, he supposed. That and she was family—if he couldn't trust family then Shikamaru knew he was in worse straits than most of the village. Everyone needed some place to be able to relax and family was that for most active shinobi. Family or friends. "But for shadows, where did you think they went?"

"I thought they died out with the person." He shrugged uneasily. Shikamaru wasn't sure, now, what to think other than the fact that apparently he'd not known as much about his family as he'd thought. Secrets within secrets.

Fitting, almost, for a clan of shadow users.

Her grin didn't reassure him much. "You thought wrong then, boy."

Shikamaru considered that even as he gave up his attempts to avoid touching the table at all and rested one hand on it, butterfly light. It didn't do anything; the table remained inert. Relaxing minutely, turned his mind to the problem presented in front of him.

He could feel shadows, now that Aunt Sadako had brought it up, but there didn't seem to be anywhere near enough of them, as far as he could differentiate between them without devoting more time and energy than he really wanted to at the moment, to make up the entire Clan from inception.

Nara had never been a small clan, after all. Not all of them were fighters, were shinobi, some of them never did anything but take care of the deer, and they had people marry out of the Clan as well, but...

"The shadows here," he said slowly, watching her carefully for confirmation of his hypothesis. "They're only the shadows of those Nara who have the dreams as well as the nightmares, aren't they?"

Aunt Sadako's lips curved into a smile. "Very good," she said approvingly. "You got it quicker than I did back when I was first brought here. Yes—only those with the dreams can enter this building. Most people, most Nara, can't even find this temple these days. A few Nara know that it exists, it's still on the register of Clan properties, but most of the family doesn't really—hmmm—notice the property at all."

"Why wouldn't they?" Shikamaru wondered. "Even if it was a place for only the people in the family who get the dreams too, wouldn't we have people coming to check out the property every now and then? Just out of curiosity?" He was lazy, but the idea of that was one that even Shikamaru could see getting into his head on occasion. One of those off-hand thoughts that wouldn't be dismissed out of hand and would grow over time until a day when he'd really had nothing better to do.

"They can't see it," she repeated. "The shadows hide it from them unless they have one of the... guardians, I suppose, though that word makes us sound awfully lofty and we're not really... but as I was saying, the shadows that exist here won't let anyone, even from the Clan, find it unless they've got on of us with them."

That made it, he thought, an excellent place to get away and hide from his mother if she were being especially troublesome. Shikamaru quirked his lips in a slight smile. "And it's the same for those who aren't in the Clan?"

"Very much so," Aunt Sadako answered, brushing her hand over the table. "This isn't meant as a place for most people. It's a very... Clannish sort of thing and even then, only for a few, you understand. It's not for bringing your friends to hang out—if you brought them, it should be only in an emergency. No enemy will find you here. Not in the heart of shadows."

"Heart of shadows? Is that what this temple is actually called?" If so, he thought, that was a good enough reason in his estimation to never mention it to anyone else. Shikamaru had no interest in sounding anywhere near as lame as that sounded.

Her shrug was apologetic. "I didn't name it either," Aunt Sadako told him. "But yes, that's what it's actually called—it makes sense, from the perspective of what's here, all things considered, but that doesn't make the name any better to say out loud, does it?"

"No," he snorted. "I can see why you'd want it kept a secret in _that_ case."

She shrugged again and Shikamaru had the impression that she was more humouring him than anything else. "It doesn't really matter what we call it," Aunt Sadako continued before he could decide whether he wanted to try calling her on it or not. "What matters is that you understand this is a place that only the dreamers can really come and go freely from."

Her lips twisted ruefully. "Which would be why this place is in such disrepair. With only me to care for it, and being out on a mission for such a long time, it's begun falling apart."

Privately, he was of the opinion that she hadn't been doing much in the way of reconstruction even before the mission she'd been sent out on. Some of his thoughts must have shown on his face because she wrinkled her nose and laughed.

"I never was," she admitted freely, "much good at fixing things up. I don't suppose you could do anything about this? I can carry things, but much beyond that and well..." Aunt Sadako gestured at the mess around them.

That time, he gave in to the urge to laugh. "And so we end up with something like this."

Shikamaru glanced around at the peeling paint and puffy spots in the walls, at the thick layer of dust on everything, at the way that some leaves had gotten into here and though he couldn't see any he was sure that there had to be vermin around. "Those lanterns are fire safe, right?" he asked as the thought occurred to him that it might not be entirely safe to have all of them going in the circumstances.

"That much, at least, I made sure of," she answered. "They won't be lighting anything else on fire—they're designed so that even if they fall off the wall they'll go out immediately rather than light anything else up."

"Clever,' Shikamaru said, wondering how they did that. He'd have to look into it later... "We're going to be spending a fair bit of time here, aren't we?"

"For sure," Aunt Sadako said affirmatively. "Especially until you've gotten the basics down pat—we're going all the way back to the beginning with your training on this."

He made note of the questions that immediately sprung to mind at that bit of information and gave the place a dubious glance. "This is going to take a lot of work to clean up." Shikamaru was not a particular fan of that idea—but at the same time, he thought that it might be along the same lines of his room.

Once it _was_ clean, it'd be rather easy to _keep_ clean. Even if this place was bigger than his room by far.

"I can lecture just as well while we're elbow deep in soap suds and cleaning solution as I can if we were sitting at a table like a normal class," Aunt Sadako pointed out, grinning at that. "And I'm sure you'd be able to ask your questions just as easily in the same situation."

That was true enough, he acknowledged. In fact the steady work would probably free his mind up to focus more on what was being discussed. It was hard to be distracted when both your mind and body were occupied. "And you're not going to be fussy when it comes to the fact that I'll be free labour."

Shikamaru also had to confess that it wasn't as if he was doing anything that was more important. It wasn't like he had missions or anything right now. Cleaning would give him something to do, and the fact that he'd be able to lump it under the heading of training meant that his mother wouldn't be able to pick as much at him for being lazy.

"Got it in one," she admitted, evidently amused at that. "You're my nephew, after all. I'd be a poor aunt if I didn't make you work now and then. Make no mistake, though, it's going to be hard and you'll be going home exhausted at the end of the day."

"From a lecture?" he asked, interested in knowing how much of the practical they'd be doing if he was to, as Aunt Sadako had put it, start all over from the beginning.

She shook her head quickly at that suggestion. "Definitely not from the lecture. There's quite a lot that you can train on while we're cleaning up—using your shadow to help fetch things for you gets more tiring than you'd think when you're doing it for the whole day, you know? And then once we get past the cleaning stage, which will take us a few days at least, you're going to be working far more intensively with your shadow than you've done before. I know the training for our Clan is pretty evenly split between taijutsu and shadow training at your rank—"

"Even at the Chuunin level?" he asked, tapping his fingers idly on the table. Carefully. While noting that his shadow still hadn't come back. He thought that it was likely that he wouldn't see it again until they left the temple.

"At your level in the Chuunin rank, yes," Aunt Sadako said, making a face. "Chuunin are a nice middle rank, but they range majorly in experience and strength and no offense, boy, but you're on the lowest tier possible that way right now. Especially with the mess of your shadow and your own lazy tendencies. I'm going to have to beat that out of you." The smile one her face said she was kidding.

Mostly. There was a certain set to her eyebrows that said some beating may be necessary.

Shikamaru wasn't particularly reassured by that but was, at this point, up for almost anything that would get his shadow back under his control. He was _tired_ of having it react to anything he felt or thought, even if it didn't take up chakra to do so, and the idea of having a shadow that actually moved only when he wanted it to and the rest of the time acted like a perfectly ordinary shadow greatly appealed to him.

For that, he thought he could put in some hard work. Being lazy was something that he enjoyed, that he preferred, that he would rather—no doubt about it, if left to his natural inclinations, Shikamaru was not the world's most active person and, in fact, was not even in the running for that position.

If he had his way he wouldn't ever be in a position like that. But he couldn't always be lazy.

"How does that tie back to the dreams?" he asked. "I'm still confused about that bit—so the dreams signify that whoever gets them is one of those Nara who can see and enter this temple… but what does that have to do with the way my shadow has been acting up and the dreams themselves—are they just a marker of that?"

Because Odd-Ino was too well defined, he thought, to be something as simple as an indicator. It didn't make sense to him. What sort of indicator could you spend months talking to, as if to another person, and yet have them do nothing but serve as a precursor to the nightmares? Odd-Ino was friendly, in her own complicated way, even if half the time she didn't make much sense at all.

"The dreams are... first," she said, obviously having changed her mind midway through the sentence, "just so you know, I will answer all your questions. But let's deal with them one at a time, yeah?"

That seemed reasonable, to his thinking anyway, and Shikamaru nodded. Better that than have them hopelessly confused because they couldn't stay on topic. His head was beginning to ache as well, and Shikamaru thought that was as much from the lighting as anything else. The lanterns helped a great deal but the place was still rather dark. "The dreams then," he prompted.

"Right."

He wondered if it was his imagination or the lighting but Aunt Sadako had started looking pale and tired. Her voice hinted at none of that however so Shikamaru resolved to simply keep an eye on her rather than draw attention to the fact.

"Anyway," Aunt Sadako went on, seemingly unaware of his thoughts on her relative health. "The dreams are... a pressure valve."

He leaned back, wondering if she'd mind if he got up to walk around. Sitting cross-legged the way he was made his legs ache just a little--and it didn't help that he was too close to the tables to do anything like shift himself enough to stretch out one leg at a time. "A pressure valve?" Shikamaru repeated, turning the words over in his mind even as he spoke them. "For the nightmares?"

If that was the case then Shikamaru wanted a new pressure valve. The dreams were not helping with the nightmares. If anything, they made it worse having to go from relative peace and quiet to something weird and dark and having to watch the people who were important to him die over and over. He turned dark eyes to stare moodily at his aunt and wondered what she'd have to say to that.

"Not for the nightmares," she denied, her eyes serene as she met his gaze easily. "But for your shadow. It helps to... bleed out excess emotion and allows you to maintain your control over your shadow."

Shikamaru raised his eyebrows skeptically.

"Once," Aunt Sadako clarified, sounding firm, "you've managed to go through proper training. I'm sure you noticed how it wasn't particularly effective beforehand."

No kidding, he thought. "So, what, if it's just a valve then..." Shikamaru quickly groped for the right word, "then why is there a personality?"

"Would you listen to your subconscious nearly as much if it didn't have a personality?" she asked, not answering his question but requesting an answer in turn. In that, Shikamaru thought, she and his father were well matched. Why answer questions when they could turn it around and make it so you had to find an answer on your own? And they called him lazy. Hmph.

"I..." Shikamaru frowned at his aunt. "That doesn't make entire sense."

"That's the way it works," Aunt Sadako said with cool authority. "Your subconscious takes a form that you'll listen to and once you've got your shadow under control you'll find that the personality becomes far more rounded--fracturing is a sign that there's something that needs to be dealt with in your control and in your life before it affects your shadow unduly."

He wasn't sure he even wanted to know what it meant that his subconscious had decided that he'd listen the best to Ino. He _never_ listened to Ino. That was almost distressing to consider. Ino had a penetrating voice, to be sure, but...

But he didn't _listen_ to her. Especially not when she went on one of her rambling rants about some thing or the other and he could do nothing but hope and pray that Asuma-sensei ended training early just so she'd shut up. Or something happened to distract her. Sometimes he played devil's advocate, Shikamaru knew, and goaded her on just to see where she'd end up with her rant. There was something deeply entertaining about her when she wasn't getting on his nerves. He huffed a laugh at that as an idea occurred to him.

"Something amusing?" Aunt Sadako asked curiously.

"Just figuring out something about my dreams," he answered, reluctant to go into detail.

Perhaps, Shikamaru figured, Ino was in his head because he'd be so interested in getting away from her rambling that his subconscious had figured that that was the quickest way of getting him to do something. If that was the case, he thought, his subconscious hadn't been paying enough attention to everything that was going on. Not by a long shot.

Odd-Ino was, well, odd. But he enjoyed her company on some level. It wasn't the real thing, of course, and he'd never want the real Ino, his teammate, in his mind for any length of time, but the fact remained that he... got along with her most of the time.

Just not lately. And even then, they'd managed to pull it together.

"What happens," he asked, not giving himself time to go through and convince himself that this would be a poor idea. "What happens when you enjoy the conversations you've got with the personality of the person in your dreams? I mean, conversations in your sleep, in your head, and being aware of the fact that they're dreams anyway..." Shikamaru wished vaguely that he hadn't brought it up in the first place.

Saying it out loud just made him sound insane, and that was the last thing he wanted to sound like when they were talking in all seriousness about the personalities that their subconscious' had. "Wouldn't it have made more sense for your subconscious to... be a reflection of yourself?"

Aunt Sadako's answering grin was deeply rueful. "How many people," she asked, "do you really think actually bother to listen to themselves when it comes to problems that they don't want to deal with? I assure you, the answer is 'not many'--no one wants to deal with things, or admit that they've got to deal with things, when they're buried so deep that the only way they even know they've got a few problems is through their nightmares. No, boy, it is better by far to have your personality in your dreams be someone else."

Shikamaru was still rather dubious about the validity of that claim but had to concede that his aunt certainly seemed to know more of what she was talking about than anyone else he'd had dealings with concerning this. "So," he continued, "if that's the case, and the... personality... keeps showing up because there's difficulties does that mean they won't show up when everything is fine?"

"No," Aunt Sadako shook her head. "That's not the case. They'll show up in your dreams every night, I'm afraid--"

"Will they always be the same person?" Shikamaru interrupted. "Personality, I mean."

"No again," she answered, giving him a tolerant look. "The personality, or person, that your mind chooses to express itself through varies depending entirely on who you'll listen to the most throughout your life. You won't be stuck with the same person all your life, they will change with you."

He felt a pang at that. Odd-Ino wasn't the same as her real world counterpart but Shikamaru didn't want her to disappear. "That's good to know," he said, already trying to figure out how that one worked. Was there some sort of... scale or something that the mind weighed degrees of listening to, he wondered.

"As I was saying," she said, giving him a look that dared him to interrupt her again. "They'll show up in your dreams every night because even if you're dealing with your problems well enough every day, they'll be there to handle the daily stress that accumulates." Her eyebrows rose. "Pressure valve."

Shikamaru nodded his understanding. "So that's why we've got the dreams then… why doesn't everyone in our family have to do that? We're all shadow users."

"You're too used to being able to consider everything being made equal," Aunt Sadako noted. "But the short answer, before you interrupt me to disagree with my statement--yes, I see your frown--is that our shadows are more connected to our emotions than most of the Clan's. For them using a shadow is like using any other sort of tool. Do you get attached to your kunai?"

He shook his head. "That'd be stupid."

She wrinkled her nose. "Well, if it's stupid, then we're both stupid. We're both rather attached to our shadows, born that way, and there's nothing we can do about it to get unattached. Your father, for instance, is an excellent shadow user. No one is deadlier with it--but he's not emotionally connected to it. Not on a subconscious level. If he has a nightmare, it doesn't upset his shadow. If we do," Aunt Sadako said frankly, "it does and will. So the only thing there is to do, when it comes to us... is learn to control as much as we can."

"That doesn't sound like much of a good thing to me," he said, making a face at that idea.

"It's not all bad," she answered, looking wan and Shikamaru was sure by now that it wasn't just the lighting in the temple that was causing it. "There's some techniques that we can use that most of the family can't, and our shadow is less dependent on the sun cover and amount of light that's in the sky. We've got more range, in short. But--"

"Only with control," Shikamaru finished, saying the words with her.

She laughed. "You've got it. Now, about your control, the very first thing you need to do is going to be walking through your shadow."

It was not the first time that she'd mentioned it, but Shikamaru felt that this time he could ask his questions. "What does that mean, exactly?"

"Precisely what I said," she answered and leaned forward. "Okay, before you narrow your eyes even more at me, I'll tell your mother on you if you keep that up—let's..."

* * *

Please review!


	4. Self Contemplation

Title: Walk Through Shadow  
Chapter: 04 Self-Contemplation  
Author/Artist: Killaurey  
Disclaimer: Naruto doesn't belong to me. It's Kishimoto's and I just play with it. AU immediately after the Sasuke Retrieval Arc. Part 4 of 7. Unbeta'd. Thanks so much to all who read, review, and lurk!

Notes: This is a side story to _Slow Burn_. It's not absolutely necessary to read Slow Burn, but it would probably help explain the backstory!

[Shikamaru centric] While Ino is off in Kumogakure for the Chuunin Exams, Shikamaru's nightmares worsen and his control over his shadow unravels. Getting it together again means facing his worst enemy—himself.

* * *

_Go home and think._

Shikamaru was beginning to suspect Aunt Sadako had only told him that in the hopes that it would get him off her back for a few days. He shoved that thought down, he'd seen her around, and it was true that she had her life to put back together after being out on a mission for so long; he shouldn't begrudge her a few days of getting things back in order before she really taught him.

Besides, he thought, she'd given him more direction than the rest of his Clan put together. Not that it was any of their fault, and Shikamaru wasn't looking for a straw man to blame for it either, but all the same...

Rain poured down outside in a steely grey sheet; water hitting the ground so hard that it leapt back off the ground with a staccato pounding that made it hard to think. Which was precisely, he thought ruefully, what he was supposed to be doing. Think and decide if he wanted to go through with it. He had choices, Aunt Sadako had said, though one of the choices led to being stronger and the other led to turning away from everything that had been going on.

If he were honest with himself, turning away was an option that appealed. Who didn't, sometimes, want to close their eyes, pretend that everything was okay, and then open them-and find that everything really _was_ okay?

But walking through shadow... there were things he'd gain too. Shikamaru rubbed his forehead and slumped back in his chair to stare blankly out the window his desk sat at as rain lashed the glass to the point where trying to see out of it was nearly impossible.

_Go home and think_.

He wasn't sure where to begin. He'd listened to her when she'd explained how he'd have to walk through his own shadow and he was still... more than a little dubious about _that_ idea. Shadows weren't doorways to anywhere, after all. He'd never heard of anyone having the ability to do something like that at all. That, he thought, standing and closing the book he'd been pretending to read with a slam, was the crux of it.

There was no proof.

For all he knew, Aunt Sadako was pulling an elaborate prank on him. She certainly seemed enthusiastic enough; Shikamaru could easily imagine her as having been a trouble-maker back when she'd been in the Academy. Grown up during a war she definitely had but everything he'd ever heard pointed to the fact that war or not, kids didn't particularly hesitate about causing pranks on one another.

All the same, she'd seemed serious enough, and it would be a difficult proposition to come up with hours and hours worth of discussion material just in case he'd decided to ask a question that didn't entirely stick with the script she'd prepared. Shikamaru leaned out his window, gazing down at the yard, and wondered if the rain would ever stop. He had little inclination to go out in the rain when it wasn't for a job.

Shikamaru glanced at the book sourly. It was a cover-an excuse in case his mother came looking for him to put him to work. If he just stayed and thought the way that Aunt Sadako had put it then he'd never manage to find any time and peace alone. It would be either 'get to training' or 'come help with this' or 'what are you doing' every ten-fifteen minutes. He was not a fan.

Not, he admitted, that his mother had much to complain about when it came to his room lately. It was cleaner than normal, even for him. One of the things he'd done while up after a nightmare. He frowned, crossed his room and flopped down on his bed to stare up at the ceiling, hands behind his head. The nightmares were even worse lately and he had the vague suspicion that it had to do with whatever had taken his shadow away from him in the temple.

As he'd suspected, it hadn't shown up until he'd been making to walk out, and after that had remained relatively peaceful, compared to before; but the nightmares had been worse.

And Odd-Ino had been making less sense than _her_ usual.

Despite himself, Shikamaru grinned at that. So he had issues, did he? Well, Odd-Ino wasn't doing a very good job at getting them across. Which he knew was quite possibly because he'd controlled his subconscious enough to wind up with that result. If she wasn't getting through to him then she'd have to stick around. It was an utterly insane idea. Shikamaru had a funny feeling that it was one that he'd latched on to in the parts of his mind that weren't entirely in control. He didn't know what else there was to blame for the fact that she'd started getting odder after he'd learnt more about her.

_You listen to her_. He'd been told that and while he wasn't sure how _much_ he listened to her, Shikamaru wasn't sure what other explanation he had for Odd-Ino appearing in his head.

Well.

He was a teenage boy. Shikamaru could think of several _other_ reasons, not that he'd tell Ino that, the look on her face would be priceless but the beating she'd give him after wasn't worth the expression... and he wasn't even sure he'd want to get a reaction over that. He didn't know where they stood these days, let alone go forward and say something like that when it was _true_...

The fact remained, though, despite what other things he could think of as being an 'option', was the plain fact that Odd-Ino never did anything but serve him tea, sit and babble at him, and cry sometimes. Not the sort of thing, he thought wryly, that fantasies were made of.

He shook his head. "This is getting me nowhere," Shikamaru said to his empty room, and sighed. He wished he could talk to Chouji, even if it wasn't about this situation-this was covered, so far covered that it was all but buried by the Clan Confidential. Even if Chouji had been here, it would have been worth more than his life to talk about _this_-all the same, it would have been nice to have his friends around.

I think, he realized, that I'm _bored_.

If someone had told him that he'd get bored of peace and quiet and not having to do anything but think his own thoughts, train when he wanted to, help out when his family sought him out as another set of free hands... Shikamaru would have laughed just a few weeks ago.

_Are you crazy?_ He could picture himself saying that. _That sounds like paradise to me._

Funny how it seemed more like a prison sentence now.

Pushing himself up, Shikamaru crossed his legs and rested his elbows on his knees as the wind howled around them. Today there'd only be a few of the Clan out with the deer, mostly making sure that they stayed away from areas that had become dangerous and unsound since the last major storm. He doubted they'd have work for him. Not unless he wanted to patch up some of the gear that was always being used.

That was a good idea, he decided, as a particularly strong gust of wind made the window panes rattle and the rain got so heavy he couldn't even see the street light directly across from him. What had Aunt Sadako said? Idle hands brought about idle thoughts. Shikamaru didn't actually mind that philosophy. A few days of being stuck indoors were enough to make anyone think that, he figured, when there was nothing to do.

For every action there was an equal reaction. Shikamaru supposed that it was fair of his subconscious to decide that if he were going to finally, really truly and after so much effort and time spent hoping for peace, that he was going to be _bored_ with the peace and quiet he'd hoped for…

Someone, he was sure, thought it was a great joke indeed.

That someone was not Shikamaru, however, and he rolled his shoulders back, trying to work out kinks that had come from being too inactive for the past few hours, that was what happened when he read after all, and set his book down on his desk. Rubbing one hand through his hair, he headed out of his room in search of finding someone with something for him to do. Unusual train of thinking for him, he admitted, but then—his normal routine of things was not working.

When it's broken, fix it. Ignoring something like that, something so potentially important… was sheer stupidity. Shikamaru would gladly and honestly own up to being _lazy_, but only Ino got to say he was stupid.

His lips quirked at that. Perhaps that was what Aunt Sadako had meant when she'd said that he'd listen to her? Another thing to consider, though what use was it when all he had was Odd-Ino and Odd-Ino… wasn't Ino. Didn't have her fire.

The leap then was easy to make as he wondered what _that_ was supposed to mean. Did it mean that, as it was from his subconscious, that he didn't have the same sort of fire as she did—Shikamaru knew that one was no contest, he lived as a shinobi but he didn't care who else beat him unless it was on a mission and then, then he had no plans for anyone to beat him.

Otherwise, though, he was easily content to live and let live and leave the jostling and struggling for position and favour to others.

He stretched and continued down the dark hall, his feet silent on the wooden floor, and kept his ears alert for any conversation. Where people were, he'd be able to find work. In a clan the size of Nara there was always _something_ to be done.

It only remained, he thought wryly, for someone to want to do the work. That was the issue there. But if he got work then maybe then he'd be able to better think about what Aunt Sadako had told him to consider.

Think of the pros and cons of each option, she'd said, eyes deadly serious and that more than anything was what kept him convinced that it wasn't just a game that was being played for her amusement.

_Think,_ Aunt Sadako had said, _and don't forget that this is a decision that once it's made, boy, can't be undone. There is no going back. You can tie your shadow more closely to your emotions, gaining some powers and weaknesses that other Nara do not have, or you can seal your shadow away so that it's nothing more but a pale imitation of the shadows the rest of our Clan hold-a shadow that is perfectly serviceable, mind you, but well... I'm biased. I made my choice, you understand and I've never regretted it._

He could tell, just feeling for the chakra signatures that his parents were in the kitchen and almost absently he turned to head that way. If his father could not be convinced to give him something to study then his mother would surely have chores for him-Shikamaru knew he didn't even have to actually _ask_. Just go in, laze about, and his mother would find him something to do in short order.

...it was strange, in a way, to know that about her and love her for it even when ordinarily it drove him half mad. Perhaps, Shikamaru wondered, that too was part of growing up. If it was like that then he could handle that part of it. More than he'd proven in other areas, unfortunately.

A leader, that's what being a Chuunin meant he had to be, and Shikamaru wondered if it was pathetic of him to hope that Ino and Chouji became Chuunin as well-just so that he didn't have to lead them. That had been a disaster from the start. He _could_ lead, but not them. Chouji was easy enough to handle most of the time, though even there he'd been mucking it up spectacularly, but Ino...

Ino loathed being commanded by him. Shikamaru, thinking back on it, could recall more than once when her eyes had almost seemed to glow with fury at some order or another and he thought now that maybe that was some of it. She was someone who had to be in command or who would rather work alone. Funny that, he mused, when all three of them were known for their teamwork. He could work within a template, Ino needed to control the template, and Chouji was the only one of them with the patience truly needed for teamwork as the Academy defined it.

Not for the first time since they'd gone, he found himself wondering the odds of Ino and him being able to pass Hatake-sensei's bell test if they'd not had Chouji. They hadn't passed it when Asuma-sensei had tried it with Hatake-sensei, but then there'd been more issues at hand than simply having to start out from the bottom up.

From the bottom up...

Shikamaru paused, foot an inch from the stair, and then shook his head. From the bottom up gave him an idea but it wasn't fully fledged enough to actively poke at and he resigned it to the back of his mind and continued down the stairs, fully confident in his plans to keep busy.

If Ino knew she'd probably laugh herself sick.

Shikamaru found himself smiling at that thought. Laughter was a better reaction by far than having her yell at him for something that might or might not have been a real slight. Not, he admitted, that he was blameless.

Could he help it if it was fun to piss her off?

She reacted _so_ easily. He virtuously told himself that it was for her own good, that staying that easy to goad would only make for major weaknesses down the road, but Shikamaru knew that that was just a justification for something that amused _him_.

"—I thought Sadako-chan—" His mother's voice drifted up the stairs.

"She did," his father answered, the words sounding a bit stiff to Shikamaru's ears. "Before the damned fox attacked us; Iwa bastards—"

Something in his father's voice had Shikamaru frowning as he very carefully slipped down the last few stairs to walk as silently as he could. Long familiarity meant he knew to avoid which floorboards squeaked and groaned under weight. He knew better than to dampen his signature, though.

In a Clan like his, it was the absence of a signature that stood out more than the presence of one. Leaving his signature the way it usually was made him more invisible than suddenly disappearing off the mental map of the house would ever do in his home. As long as he left it, Shikamaru knew his parents would be aware that he was in the house and not think to look any further.

(It was a scheme he'd used more than once at a younger age to creep down and take food in the middle of the night. It had only taken a few tries before he realized what had to be the cause of his mother catching him some of the time and yet not other times. Experience came in all sorts of ways.)

Closer, now, to the door to the kitchen-but not _too_ close, or his parents would sense him; both of them were trained and higher ranked than he was even if his mother had mostly retired from active duty-Shikamaru could hear his mother clearly now.

He didn't have to see his mother to know that she likely had her hands on her hips. Her sigh of exasperation and the hint of real worry in her voice said it all. "Then _how_ is he—"

"I don't know," his father interrupted, just as weary as his mother had sounded. Just as worried. On some level, that bothered Shikamaru more than the fact that his mother was worried.

His mother always found something to worry about, after all. Shikamaru was half convinced that she did it deliberately, just to have something to do, even if it didn't seem like she enjoyed worrying very much.

His father… only worried about the important things.

"I don't know," his father repeated, "I've been checking into things, but nothing is turning up with any answers. Have you noticed his shadow, though?"

"The way it's not grabbing for everything in sight now?" That sounded more than a little wry. "I have and it's a blessing-you think it's connected?"

His father's laugh didn't have more than a tinge of humour in it. "That's just grasping at straws. Just, it's not... _she_ couldn't... it doesn't make sense..."

Shikamaru frowned at that. They were talking about him, that was for sure, and Aunt Sadako as well. That was a pretty cold thing, he thought, to say that your sister wasn't supposed to be hanging around the Clan when she'd just gotten back from a mission that had been long and hard-she didn't even have to tell him that the mission had been hard, after all, it was clear in her face.

"If she'd not," his mother demanded, "then _what_ are we supposed to _do_? You've noticed the way he's going around—"

"_Yes_." Shikamaru blinked at the force in his father's voice. That was almost worse than the fact that he was worried. Nara Shikaku was not prone to being forceful if it wasn't a life or death situation. "I'm aware of how he's going around, Yoshino."

"What can we _do_ about it? If other people notice…"

"That could, if I didn't know you so well, sound almost cruel," his father answered, and from the _thwap_ of cloth, Shikamaru guessed that his mother had whacked his dad with a dishtowel. "Dammit, woman, that stung. I know what you mean, alright?"

His mother's answer was a murmur and Shikamaru decided abruptly that he didn't really want to interrupt them.

Sneaking away from the kitchen entrance and ghosting his way back up the stairs, Shikamaru resumed walking normally and headed down another hall to see if he could find one of the cousins instead.

They'd probably have leathers for him to mend, if nothing else, and that was easier to deal with than having to brave getting sent outside—not in the weather they were having, and not when he actually wanted to be able to concentrate. The rain would just knock all other thoughts but his physical misery out of his mind.

Pure genius, he thought, amused. _Right_.

After the hours of fruitlessly mending worn leathers and pondering what his father and mother had been talking about Shikamaru was almost grateful when it became late enough that going to bed would go unremarked upon-the last thing he wanted was anyone thinking he was coming down with something. That would only lead to fussing and he wasn't in the mood for dealing with any of _that_.

He stretched out on his bed, hair down and quickly brushed if only because the tangles in the morning were far worse if he took no care at all in his nightly routine, Shikamaru closed his eyes and settled in to just _think_. But exhaustion came quickly, eliminating his plans to consider his options further with a heavy whack over the head like a hammer and he tumbled asleep almost before he'd even realized that, yes, he was tired. So tired.

As his eyes slid shut he thought that he heard Aunt Sadako's voice.

* * *

Sadako leaned in the doorway and watched Shikamaru sleep for a few minutes, her face tired before she lifted her shoulders in a shrug—so much for asking him to train—and headed downstairs, making no attempt to hide her passage. Boots clicked on the steps as she all but bounced down them and made her way to the kitchen.

Where her brother and his wife were talking. "You know," she said breezily, wandering in and over to their fridge as if they hadn't fallen abruptly silent at her entry. "I seem to recall _someone_ telling me it was rude to talk about others when they weren't around, _Shikaku_."

That had been him, back when they'd been kids and he'd gone through a phase where he'd loathed anyone talking about him.

The silence continued behind her as she helped herself to some iced tea and leaned back against the counter to study Shikaku and Yoshino. She raised her eyebrows. "No one's going to argue with me?" Well. She could get used to that.

Her brother sighed, looking ill at ease and peculiarly happy all at the same time. Yoshino just stared at her blankly. "Sit down, Sada. Please."

"Only because you asked nicely," Sadako replied, and flopped down in the nearest chair. "Being nice will get you far."

Yoshino's lips were starting to twitch up in what might've been a smile. _Score one for me,_ Sadako thought comfortably as she settled in to see what her brother might have to say to her.

And to set a few things straight. It was past time she'd done that.

* * *

When he slept and then woke to the white room in his head, Shikamaru found himself completely unsurprised by the fact that the table in this room resembled the one that sat in his kitchen. Odd-Ino, as was her wont, hadn't arrived quite yet and he had the place to himself, as much as his mind was his own anyway. He took that time to study the table and consider the fact that it was, down to the scrapes and small burns and worn spots on the top of it, the exact twin of the one in his kitchen.

"Does that mean," he asked, not really expecting an answer, "that if I do something to this table, it'd affect the real one?"

It was an idle question, vaguely interesting, but kept him from commenting on the first several thoughts that had sprung to mind at the sight of it. Shikamaru tentatively pulled out on of the chairs, making sure to avoid the one that in the waking world was rickety and halfway to falling over, and sat down half expecting to get sucked into a nightmare immediately.

Nothing happened.

The chair felt like real wood under his hands even though he knew it was just something he'd created in his sleep and Shikamaru took his time in glancing around the rest of the room to see if everything was... in order as much as it could be here. The tapestry was gone; it had disappeared after the one and only time that he'd seen it. He wondered what that meant, the fact that it could and would just leave.

Did that mean he'd learnt whatever lesson he'd been supposed to take away from it?

Something to ask Aunt Sadako, he decided, though that would depend on his answer to the dilemma that she'd posed for him. Asking him to think things through first. He sighed and carefully tapped the table, hoping that it wouldn't suck him into anything, and was relieved to find that for the moment at least, the table was perfectly steady, secure, and in all ways ordinary.

Except for the fact that it was here, in his dream-land, where he was only nominally in control. His subconscious had a greater role to play here than he really cared for. If only to himself, Shikamaru could readily admit that he could have lived quite happily without ever having to deal with the fact that his waking mind was still, at least partially, a slave to the deeper levels of himself.

That sort of emotional crap was for _girls_. How much introspection had he done in the last few days? More than he'd done ever before, Shikamaru was sure of it; there was a major difference between always thinking about something and actually navel gazing about yourself. Facts and emotion-two significantly different realms of thought and he'd been quite happy in the one he'd stuck to previous.

Now it seemed as if he had no choice in what to think about. Not with Aunt Sadako's options dangling over him like a fishing rod with particularly tasty bait.

"How would you like your tea?" Odd-Ino asked, her voice breaking into his thoughts. Shikamaru lifted his head to look across the table at her.

Tonight she was wearing a pale green kimono, with a pink obi-she looked like a flower and the baby's breath that were embroidered on the kimono bore out that resemblance more than a little. Shikamaru wryly thought that, had he not known her, he wouldn't have particularly bothered with knowing what sort of flower that was. But hanging out with Ino meant picking up a bit about flowers if only in self-defence.

And some of them were actually rather nice, not that he'd admit it.

"As is," he answered and she bowed her head, blonde hair spilling down her back, over the floor and the gesture allowed him to see that her hair piece was made of the same flowers that were done up in thread on her outfit. The whole thing, her sitting at his kitchen table, in a room of white, and looking as frail as any spring bud, made him wonder if Odd-Ino could get sick and tired as well. "Are you alright?"

She peered up at him through long lashes, blue eyes amused. "I am as alright as you are," Odd-Ino answered, pouring his tea deftly and setting the cup out in front of him. Shikamaru didn't bother asking where she'd gotten the things, the one time he'd asked, before Aunt Sadako had given him a better idea of what was going on in his mind, he'd only wound up more confused than ever at her meandering answers.

Compared to that, this one was practically an open book.

"I'm sorry," he replied, taking up his tea. "I've had a few things on my mind."

"Things don't do much to help if nothing is put into action." She poured her own cup, just as neatly, but added a bit of honey to hers all the while managing to keep the trailing sleeves of her clothing from getting anywhere near the hot liquid.

"You're getting blunter," Shikamaru noted, amused despite himself at that. "Two months ago you wouldn't have said anything nearly that straightforward."

She blinked at him, almost as if she didn't understand what he'd meant by that. He sipped his tea and leaned back in the chair. It was just the way he liked it; that seemed fitting to Shikamaru-if they were going to be in his head then why shouldn't he have food and drink that were to his liking? Though, admittedly, he wasn't sure how in control of _that_ he was either.

"Action," Odd-Ino said, "is the heart and soul of reality."

"No point," he answered lazily. "Reality is what a person makes it."

"What do you make of it?" she asked, sipping at her tea and looking coolly serene.

Shikamaru too his time in thinking about that. Then had to laugh a bit. "Not much different than what you said," he admitted, "but I didn't like your phrasing. Half a point to you, and I take the other half?"

Blue blue eyes stared at him, measuring him, Shikamaru had the sense that he was being judged on more than what he looked like in that moment. "I concede half a point to you," Odd-Ino replied. "Your tea will grow cold if we quibble about points excessively."

"It was your idea to add points in the first place," he pointed out, taking the hint as it was and drinking more of his tea. It wasn't anywhere near cool. "I can only play by the rules of the game you set."

"Only my rules? That just means you haven't been paying attention." Odd-Ino sighed, hair twisting like a shadow would as it wound itself around the back of the chair next to her. She didn't seem to notice what her hair was doing but Shikamaru certainly did.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he took in the sight. "New hair?"

"Do you like it?" she asked coyly. "It's almost the same as the original, just different enough to be noticeable."

Shikamaru sighed and gestured with his tea cup. "Please," he said, "go on." He could already tell where she was going with this, after all. Odd-Ino, it seemed, was perfectly in line with what he'd been thinking earlier anyway.

From the bottom up…

"From the bottom up," she echoed and he didn't know if it was deliberate or not; Odd-Ino's guileless eyes were no way to judge the situation. "Some things are the same, some things are different. It's like growing a tree—they split off in all different directions. The branches are all part of the whole and the different branches make the tree strong for whoever heard of a tree with only one branch?"

She looked so very sincerely puzzled by that question that Shikamaru stifled the urge to chuckle. He didn't know whether to be pleased or not that he had no problems following her trail of thought.

"I understand what you're trying to say," he assured her, before she could fuss about that and get more deeply confusing. "I'm considering my options right now—if I were a tree, I'd be trying to decide which way I wanted my branches to grow. I can't grow in every which direction."

Odd-Ino gave him a brilliant smile at that. "That would only lead to sickness," she said agreeably. "But so too, does staying in place make for a slow death. Stagnation. You'd gain bugs to your swamp."

"Bugs aren't my thing," he said as he raised his cup to finish it off.

The moment the cup touched his lips the world swirled around him, wavering and then reconstructing as he fell weightlessly away from the table and Odd-Ino (who was still drinking tea in the distance) and he roundly cursed the fact that he was headed straight for another nightmare.

When he woke up, just past three, sweat-soaked, heart beating too fast, and feeling as if he hadn't slept at all, Shikamaru knew that he'd come to his conclusion about the choices that he'd been offered. He didn't know which was the right one and that irked him more than slightly, but moving forward was the only way to go and even Odd-Ino had been firm enough about that.

Shikamaru could take a hint. Especially when it came into his own mind and wore the face of one of his teammates.

He rubbed his hands through his hair and got himself back under control. Listening for the rain and hearing only silence, Shikamaru scrambled out of bed and went to the window. The ground glistened under the light of the moon-but the rain had stopped and the sky was crystal clear. He leaned against the wall and let the coolness of it and the soft drifts of air from the window-no matter how they sealed it, every winter, without fail, it managed to be drafty-blow against his skin. It was soothing on several levels. He didn't want to go back to bed, sleeping would be an impossibility, especially after a dream and nightmare like that.

Which was, he thought, depressingly par for the course.

His room was dark, the faint light of the moon not enough to really illuminate it, not with the curtains half drawn, and Shikamaru made his way over to the light switch by instinct alone. His feet didn't step on anything, not that there was much on the floor, and when he flicked the light on he squinted and waited patiently for his eyes to adjust. He'd have to remake his bed, he thought, and then...

Then he'd get to packing. Shikamaru didn't know exactly what he'd need for going to the temple for a stretch of a few days but he was betting heavily that some sort of food would be needed, ration packs then, and he'd have to pack a few changes of clothing. No need to go mission light, he'd put in a bit more variety, as Shikamaru was sure that his aunt would have told him had they been planning to leave the village for a mission of any sort.

And she'd just said that they'd be going to the temple. Thinking as he moved to strip his bed down, the sheets were damp with sweat and would have to be washed, Shikamaru silently got to work.

As he worked he tried to decide how to break the news to his parents. Shikamaru wasn't sure, still, what had been behind the conversation that he'd overheard part of the day before, but he knew good and well that that sort of conversation didn't bode well for how they'd take the fact that he wanted to go off for a few days with Aunt Sadako. He didn't know what they were having issues with, though, she'd been just like normal to him.

He flung his sheets in the laundry hamper and quickly began remaking his bed. Aunt Sadako hadn't done anything different than usual from what he could tell, he decided, she'd always been cheerful and a bit ridiculous and that was just... how she was. What had they been going on about him-about what others might think? Shikamaru lifted up one of his shirts and shrugged.

There were no holes in it. Nothing for the neighbours to complain about then.

Packing his things didn't take very long-years of practice standing him in good stead there-and once that was done, the clock not yet at four in the morning, Shikamaru sat down on his newly made bed, picked up one of the books that his father had given him to read about shadows and settled in to pass the time in a peaceful manner. The book gave him something to focus on and before he knew it, it was just past seven and the sun was coming up.

Listening for the sounds of his parents, Shikamaru nodded his satisfaction as he slid the book back into place on the shelf and stood, pulling his packs over his shoulder and headed out the room. Down the stairs and into the kitchen, he leaned against the door frame and watched his parents for half a second before they noticed him.

"Morning," he said, figuring that getting it over with was the best idea. "Aunt Sadako said I could come train with her for a few days."

His father's jaw tightened and his mother frowned.

"Is that going to be a problem?" Shikamaru asked, shifting the pack. "We're not going that far."

"It's no problem," his father said neutrally. "Be careful, would you, son?"

"Believe me," Shikamaru said, pushing away from the door. "I don't think I could be anything but."

* * *

Please review!


	5. Self Determination

Title: Walk Through Shadow  
Chapter: 05 Self-Determination  
Author/Artist: Killaurey  
Disclaimer: Naruto doesn't belong to me. It's Kishimoto's and I just play with it. AU immediately after the Sasuke Retrieval Arc. Part 5 of 7. Unbeta'd. Thanks so much to all who read, review, and lurk!

Notes: This is a side story to _Slow Burn_. It's not absolutely necessary to read Slow Burn, but it would probably help explain the backstory!

[Shikamaru centric] While Ino is off in Kumogakure for the Chuunin Exams, Shikamaru's nightmares worsen and his control over his shadow unravels. Getting it together again means facing his worst enemy—himself.

* * *

The day, as if in contrast to those long and thoughtful days where it had done nothing but _pour_, was bright and clear. Not warm, at least, not by Konoha standards—it was still the middle of winter after all—but not bad, Shikamaru thought, as he made his way along the streets towards the bridge. His mind was made up and that meant he and Aunt Sadako had some business to get down to.

As for why they were meeting at the bridge… Shikamaru was beginning to suspect that there was some sort of jutsu on the temple. Because, while he'd tried a few times, he hadn't been able to get back to the temple on his own. Idle forays, done in the rain, while he'd been working through his dilemmas, had proven that. Lazy he was. Stupid? He wasn't. And there was nothing wrong with his memory…

He could remember the general direction and was able to trace the route they'd taken up to a certain point... and then nothing. Like he'd never been there. His memories had given him no direction and wandering aimlessly had found him nothing.

It was entirely likely, for all he knew, that the temple was hiding itself. He remembered the way it had felt _alive_ around him. Did it have a mind? And shadows were very very good at concealing their presence—no one even thought of them until they absolutely had to, or until they were scared.

Shikamaru wondered about that, as he walked, deftly avoiding the crush and press of what crowds there were-he didn't particularly care for the roof-way, it was too easy to get into a habit of using them and then become completely unaccustomed to dealing with normal crowds and a shinobi absolutely _had_ to be able to blend in.

Giving that the mystery of the temple for the moment, Shikamaru contented himself with trying to figure out what was going on with his parents. They hadn't _argued_ with him about the training but it would have taken a toddler, one perhaps that was particularly busy with a favourite toy, to notice that they were definitely not pleased with the idea of him going off and spending time with Aunt Sadako.

Speaking of her... she was already at the bridge, looking healthier than she had been for the last few days; the small glimpses that he'd caught of her while she'd deliberately given him space to think had left him wondering if she was ill. Nothing in the Nara grapevine had said she was and, now that he could see her clearly, Shikamaru dismissed his worries as ridiculous. No one ill would be perched on the railing of the bridge and idly braiding their hair with utter disregard for the fact that the wind was really quite strong today.

"So you decided to show, boy?" Aunt Sadako asked him, her voice lilting on the last word and turning the question from something that could have been insulting into a good-natured jab.

Shikamaru shifted the pack on his back and stared at her. "You wouldn't have shown if you didn't think I'd be coming," he answered dryly. "After all, no matter my decision you'd have needed to hear it."

She shrugged. "Maybe yes, maybe no. Are you so sure about the concept of me needing to _hear_ it from you?"

"More shadow stuff?" he asked, wrinkling his eyebrows. "Now that I've made up my mind, will you stop trying to confuse me with your remarks? You're a class S in cryptic, Aunt."

Her grin was bright as she tied off the braid and hopped from the railing. She dusted her hands off on her uniform and gave him a once over. "So, _boy_, what's your decision?"

Shikamaru was sure that no matter his age, she'd keep on calling him that 'boy'. The worst part, he thought, was that in her eyes he really _was_ just a boy. But that was a thought for another time and right now she had him pinned with an intent green-eyed gaze.

"I'll go through my shadow," he said evenly, "and go your route."

He wasn't sure if it was the 'right' path. It was like walking on a tightrope—blindfolded. There had to be a path through this, but which one it was… he couldn't say. He could only pick a way to go forward and trust it would work out.

Shikamaru hated that.

The facts, as he knew them, were dreadfully scanty. It was frustrating, but with all her evasions he more than half believed that even if she wanted to that she'd be _able_ to tell him more, prior to his making up his mind.

Some things were like that. It didn't mean he had to like them, naturally, and he wasn't going to be fond of them for a good long while, if ever, but now he waited to see what her response would be to that.

"You're certain?" Aunt Sadako asked, gaze never wavering from his. "This isn't something you can say 'oops, I'm sorry, let's have a redo'."

"I know that," he answered, putting as much confidence as he felt into those two words. Which… wasn't much. But his answer was the same either way. "I've made up my mind. I have no wish to stay in one situation and never move forward. You told me to pick my direction for growth, I have."

It was only barely that he resisted the urge to say something about branches and trees and Shikamaru knew that that was Odd-Ino's influence more than anything.

"Good then," Aunt Sadako said, putting one arm around his shoulders as they began walking towards the temple. "Once that's settled then we can really talk."

His lips twisted. "I suspected something like that," Shikamaru replied. "You were too consistent about dancing around my questions."

She shrugged again. "We've all got our constraints, boy. It's what we manage to get around them or get done despite them that really matter. You managed to make up your mind so I did a good enough job in selling both sides to you."

The logic in that was so shaky that Shikamaru winced. It sounded like something Ino would believe.

"Is there going to be _any_ straight logic in what I'm going to be learning?" he asked. "Because if not…"

Impressed: he would not be.

"There's logic," she assured him. "It's probably going to still give you a few headaches while you adjust to the situation, but I promise that there's some form of logic to it and that once you've got the basics down pat, it'll make sense."

"Stop," he said, almost laughing at that. "You're not helping your case at all, Aunt. If anything, you're just making it more confusing-troublesome, even."

"Ah well," Aunt Sadako answered as they walked down a nearly abandoned street. "Some things wind up being habit whether you wish them or not. You'd do well enough to remember that small fact."

That was… interesting. In the same way so many other things were these days.

Sparing a moment, he glanced around and realized that they were nearly where he kept 'getting lost' on his way to the temple. "Aunt Sadako," he asked as they turned the corner, careful to slip around one of the stalls so that they didn't disrupt the man's business-he appeared to be selling dango-and deftly avoided the lineup. "Now that I'm going to walk through my shadow will I be able to get to the temple on my own?"

She glanced down at him, lips twitching for a moment, before laughing. "You tried that out, huh? Can't say I'm surprised, Nara always were a bit like cats that way."

He waited with a semblance of patience as she rambled on about how they were like cats because of curiosity and how they only did what they wanted and not what anyone else wanted thank-you-very-much.

… Shikamaru was getting used to the fact that his Aunt took forever to get around to the point whenever he asked something. Always. _Patience_, he reminded himself. It would not hurt him. _Really_.

"Anyway," Aunt Sadako concluded, "you got it right in one. You'll be able to find it on your own, but not from this trip. The one _after_ you've gone through the whole thing, now, that's the one where you'll be able to make it to the temple without a babysitter." Her grin was infectious. "Though don't tell me that you mind having me around. I think I might have to cry at that-my own nephew doesn't care for me, oh woe, oh pain."

He snorted.

"You're being ridiculous," Shikamaru informed her then, before he thought better of it, asked another question- "Did you have a fight with my parents or something?"

Aunt Sadako blinked at him, tilting her head to the side. "Nooo," she answered slowly. "I haven't. What's up, boy?"

That got a frown out of him. "They've been just... acting a bit weird," he said, quickly detailing the way they'd not been happy at the idea of him going off to train with her for a few days. He also related the bits of conversations he'd overheard and how that it wasn't enough to make sense of but that they'd been genuinely upset about _something_ concerning her.

Her smile faded as he went on. Shikamaru felt—almost—sorry for that. A bitter pill to swallow _now_ might prevent this from worsening however. And Shikamaru had little patience for dancing around a problem.

That was Ino's wont.

"Ah," Aunt Sadako said, eyes shuttered and utterly impossible to read as she tucked a strand of hair back behind one ear pensively. "That's alright then. I know what it's about."

"Are you going to give _me_ any information?" Shikamaru persisted. "They're worried about me too, not just you."

Her laugh at that was tinged with humour and some twisted emotion made his stomach flip-flop in confused sympathy.

"They're not worried about me," Aunt Sadako replied, lips twisted. "Only you. It's one of those things that will make sense after everything has settled, I promise. You'll get it then."

"Is there _anything_ that you can tell me that doesn't have to wait until later?" Shikamaru sighed. Later later later, it was enough to drive him mad. "All my questions get answered with that not-answer and all I want to know is what's going on." Ugh. When had he started giving in to the urge to _whine_ about serious things?

But there was no point in taking it back.

Not now and any attempt at backpedalling would only confuse the issue further.

"We're almost there," she said, with a good attempt at perky. And utterly ignoring his complaint. "Then you'll get to walk through your shadow. Are you prepared for that?"

Shikamaru grunted, tempted not to bother answering her for a second before relenting—he _needed_ this training.

His parents were perfectly capable of dealing with being worried for a few days longer, if it came to that. They hadn't stopped him from leaving with her, after all.

"How much preparation could I make when I don't even know what it'll entail?" he asked instead. "I've got my pack," the full field pack, which included rations and water for two weeks, "but I don't know if I've prepared right for what I'll be facing."

Unspoken went his complaint of 'you didn't exactly give me much information to work off of, Aunt Sadako'.

Unspoken but not unheard, he guessed as she threw her head back and laughed, all signs of her darker moods erased as if they'd never existed.

He knew better, though, than to think that what he'd seen had been nothing much at all. Aunt Sadako was a Jounin-she would know easily how to hide her moods and he resolved to quietly just to watch her and see for himself if she was really alright.

Even if she wasn't answering his questions. She _was_ family, after all.

"You don't need too much, I don't think," Aunt Sadako answered once she was done laughing at that. "Most of it is for after rather than before or during anyway. You won't be in much of a condition to get up and stagger home quickly, let me tell you."

"Good to know," he said dryly. Shikamaru was glad for that bit of knowledge, even if he wasn't thrilled to hear that he'd actually be put to work—but what else was there but work when he'd been told to prepare as if for a mission?—and sighed. "I've got rations and things."

'Things' was a poor descriptor for the heavy pack he was carrying around. He didn't bother clarifying it.

"Good boy," she answered as they rounded another corner, the grass in this part of the village high and green and the buildings so new looking that they almost seemed to shine in the sun. Except for…

In front of them, visible now to his eyes, was the temple.

It looked even worse, if that was possible, than it had the last time he'd been here.

Aunt Sadako sighed. "Don't mind it," she said, "it always gets moody when it has to do something more than just exist."

"...the temple has a mind of its own?" That was confirmation of his own thoughts.

She studied the steps carefully. Shikamaru wondered what they'd do if they weren't safe.

Go up them, probably. They _were_ ninja.

"It's more than half shadow these days, and the shadows do have their own personality. They're getting ready to welcome you, one way or another—none of them know how you'll do or what you decided either. Once you've walked, though, the outside will perk up a little bit-it's partly a genjutsu, a trick, the shadows are heightening the appearance of disaster and destruction."

_One way or another_… that was ominous.

Shikamaru nodded slowly, almost relieved despite himself to hear that the continued deterioration was partly a trick of shadow-that much he could understand; more than one Nara had used their shadow to disguise their homes, themselves, a comrade.

This was just… the next step up. Better quality. More detailed. At least, he thought, as they went up the steps, he really hoped that was the case.

He could deal with an illusion. Shikamaru wasn't sure if he wanted to consider that a shadow could do _more_ than that and make the illusion reality. Not when he was going to spend a few days _inside_ a building that looked like a stiff breeze would blow it down. Without effort.

Aunt Sadako got the doors open and gestured for him to enter.

The place was still dusty and dirty, the walls peeling paint and puffy in spots but there was one thing that Shikamaru noticed immediately.

Other than his shadow disappearing. He noticed _that_ as well. Would it happen every time he entered the temple? If so, that would be distracting. "Where did the tables go?"

"Who knows?" she answered him, as he took in the fact that the lanterns had already been lit. "They're not always around-I think it depends on what you come inside here for. The shadows do try to anticipate our needs. Last time we needed a place to sit, so they gave us tables. This time, we don't need to sit down, so they don't have them around.

"And if we wanted to sit down?"

She laughed, the sound almost shockingly loud in the temple. "There's always the floor, boy. But you won't be getting the chance to sit down. Drop your bags over in that corner and grab one of the brooms. We need to do some cleaning first."

Shikamaru did as he was told, setting his pack down and finding the broom that his aunt had mentioned. With a minimum of grumbling. The broom was new and sturdy, the handle a dark blue. "You went shopping," he noted as she took the other one.

"I _am_ a girl," she teased him. "I like shopping, and this was something that needed to be bought. We've got to get the dust and grim up before you can properly walk."

"Funny," he said dryly, starting to sweep from one corner as she went to the one opposite him. "I thought I could already walk. I'd be a piss-poor ninja if I couldn't even do that much."

"Oh you," she said and Shikamaru knew that she was rolling her eyes. "You know what I mean."

He did, and so he left it at that while he began the process of ridding the floor of some of the dirt that had accumulated over time. "Do we have more than just the brooms to clean with?" Shikamaru asked once he'd finished about half of the floor and wrinkled his nose at the sheer amount of dirt that had been picked up by the brooms. "These need more than a quick sweep. These need a good scrubbing down if we want to be able to call them clean."

Aunt Sadako shook her head. "Just the brooms for now. We can scrub the whole place down afterwards. We just need to be able to see the floor more than the dust at this point. Otherwise we'd be here for weeks if you wanted to get the whole place resembling clean before going walking."

"If you say so," Shikamaru answered dubiously. He didn't see how it would take _that_ long and thought that it was more likely that Aunt Sadako was just severely adverse to more than the minimum cleaning needed.

No wonder the temple was in just disrepair if that was the case-Shikamaru mentally counted up the years in his head and guessed that she would have had total control of it for nearly twenty years by this point.

And, he thought as they finished the sweep, it looked it. Suddenly he felt a bit sorry for the temple.

"Good enough," Aunt Sadako decreed, leaning her broom against the temple wall. "Come on, set that thing down and stand out in the middle of the floor."

Shikamaru studied the floor that they'd uncovered as he put the broom back where he'd found it, taking Aunt Sadako's as well, and noticed that there was a circle done up in-he wasn't sure if it was paint or if it had been tiled that way, and wasn't about to go about touching it just to check. He walked out to the center of the room and glanced over his shoulder at her, eyebrows raised in silent inquiry.

"Okay," she said, slipping around the temple so that she was at the back of it, and up on the few low stairs that separated the platform from the rest of the floor. "See the circle in the floor? I want you to have your shadow cover the circle."

"How?" he drawled. "I seem to have lost my shadow again."

She snickered, leaning against the wall, seemingly totally unperturbed by the fact that not half a foot from her was a curl of paint that looked utterly hideous. "Use it as always. Believe me, boy. Just because you don't see your shadow in here doesn't mean it's not. It'll come to your call-no worries there."

Shikamaru gave her an incredibly dubious look but did as she told him to, silently pulling on his shadow and directing it to spread out in a circle around his feet. For this he didn't need chakra-he wasn't intending to give it enough substance to hurt or grab anyone and controlling his insubstantial shadow was as easy as breathing to him. When it was behaving, anyway.

Any Nara past the Academy stage could do the same with as little effort. He was mildly surprised when his shadow obeyed this time—it came trickling out of the walls as he called for it.

The shadow puddle around his feet wasn't anywhere near the width of the circle in the floor and Shikamaru silently directed it to spread out to cover more ground. He watched as it slowly, almost tentatively began to stretch out, a few stray tendrils curling around his legs, almost as high as his waist. Shikamaru could feel Aunt Sadako's eyes on him as his shadow crawled across the floor.

What did she think?

He didn't get a chance to wonder in depth about that—to his surprise, he _felt_ it when his shadow hit the circle. Like hitting a wall and Shikamaru's head snapped up as his shadow discovered that the wall completely enclosed him. He was, or at least his shadow was, trapped within the circle.

To his eyes, there was no wall, but there was no denying what he information he was getting from his shadow.

"What's going on?" he asked, after a quick glance at Aunt Sadako showed that she looked completely unconcerned. Somehow, that was almost comforting. If she didn't care then it meant nothing had gone horribly wrong.

"Good," she said, not answering his question. "Now, bring your shadow _up_ along the wall."

"All around?" Shikamaru checked. That would put her completely out of sight and leave him hidden almost entirely by his shadow. With nothing but the ceiling left uncovered, this was sounding more and more like he was building his own prison.

… Shikamaru forcibly banished that thought from his mind. It was a bad one.

"All around," came the affirmative.

He changed his stance to something that was a little more combat ready, just in case, and because this was making him uncomfortable on several levels-his shadow wasn't supposed to keep him in, it was supposed to keep others out, or keep them from bothering him; this was a reversal and Shikamaru found that he wasn't particularly fond of that.

Nonetheless, sensing that there was no point in complaining now that he'd made his choice—he'd _asked_ for this—and she'd given him enough information that he hadn't made that decision entirely blind… Shikamaru gave into the order, for make no mistake, it _was_ an order, and began raising his shadow.

Inch by inch it climbed up the invisible wall, weaving a barrier of dark shadow in its place and blocking the light from the lanterns.

Eventually there was only a very pale glow as his shadow spread higher than the lanterns were hung and even _that_ began dimming as he silently raised it higher and higher.

He was sweating.

It wasn't taking chakra to do this, though he shuddered to think of how much it would drain him if he tried this _with_ the intent to make it solid. Even without chakra, the effort being expended to control his shadow was significant.

Then there was darkness as his shadow brushed the ceiling and cut off all light from the lanterns in the rest of the temple.

Shikamaru stood, unable to see, in a cylinder of his own shadow and waited for further instructions from Aunt Sadako. He breathed deeply, making sure that he didn't allow his concentration to falter-that would only bring the shadow wall flowing down around him and he was under no illusions about the fact that he'd have to redo the entire thing.

It was a matter of pride, too, to not have to redo. To have managed it and whatever came next on the first try. Pride was possibly a stupid thing to cling to at the moment, but he didn't see the harm in it-not when it let him focus on not dropping the wall.

"Now the ceiling," Aunt Sadako's voice sounded crystal clear through the shadow and he didn't bother to answer her verbally.

Instead, his shadow, moving by feel rather than anything else, slowly began taking over the ceiling, much as it had done to the floor at first. This was easier than the wall—his shadow could come at it from all directions, even though gravity was a strain to fight against. It took more energy than the floor, but not near as hard as the walls. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck as he fought to keep his shadow from sagging at all.

It didn't take that long, for him to accomplish his orders. Shikamaru felt almost lightheaded with strain as kept the whole thing right where it was by will alone.

Only his shadow and his mind, here.

"Good," and Shikamaru knew that it wasn't his imagination; Aunt Sadako actually was pleased with him. "Now I want you to take a deep breath and drop the whole thing. Don't let it go slowly," her voice continued, "make it disappear—like an elastic snapping."

That sounded painful to his mind. "Are you—"

"I'm sure," she interrupted him smoothly. "Don't forget, boy, I've done this before myself. I know exactly what I'm doing here."

Shikamaru conceded that was most likely to be true-she hadn't steered him wrong yet.

Taking a moment to center himself, and to brace for the pain that he knew was going to come from this-there was a reason that shadows flowed and didn't leap, and that was because a shadow wasn't meant to just disappear, it was meant to seep and ooze and...—

He shook his head. Closed his eyes for a second and then opened them. Shikamaru wanted to see this. Observe what he was going to do and what purpose it would serve.

One more second, half a breath, and Shikamaru let his shadow go, willing it to disappear as quickly as it could, in a heartbeat, in less than a second. Quick as a flash.

His shadow disappeared with an almost audible snap and he bit his lip to stop himself from crying out at the pain. It _hurt_, letting his shadow go like that, like someone had taken a kunai and stabbed him, only worse than because this effected his whole body and everything in his world was in pain for a few minutes.

When the red tide of hurt receded enough that he could think, Shikamaru was surprised to find he'd managed to keep to his feet-it had to have been training, his father telling him over and over that you don't go down because if you're down fully then you're completely helpless against an enemy if you don't have a plan-and slowly, carefully, forced himself to straighten out of the half curled in on himself position he'd retracted to.

Shikamaru blinked hard and flexed his hands, trying to ignore the phantom spasms of pain that assaulted him with every small movement. _Let's not do that again,_ he thought ruefully. _The pain isn't worth..._

"Look behind you," Aunt Sadako said and he frowned when he realized that he couldn't see her. She had to be concealed in shadows that heavily cloaked the rest of the temple now. His shadow? He was too tired to tell.

He turned and stared at what, Shikamaru assumed, she'd wanted him to see in the first place.

It was a door.

Fully six feet tall, with no supports and made of nothing but flickering shadow. Shikamaru understood, now, what he'd have to do next. "That's my shadow," he said, and it wasn't a question.

"Absolutely," Aunt Sadako answered. "Will you walk through it?"

This was the absolutely last chance to back out. Shikamaru knew that without having to be told.

If he quit now, he'd never go this far again, and Aunt Sadako would have to find him ways different from what she'd used to help him control and use his shadow. Part of it would never again be active... Shikamaru's eyes narrowed as he did a mental inventory of his condition and realized that, somehow, his chakra was sealed off.

He couldn't access it, and he'd been able to do _that_ for years.

That meant, for this, the temptation to cheat and use it just a little was completely removed. And he hadn't even known yet how he'd have managed to cheat _this_…

"I will," he said determinedly. "I've come this far, I'll go all the way."

Nara didn't back out of things, not once they got around to doing them. It wasn't their way for all that they took longer to make up their minds than most.

"So be it," she answered, and he guessed that she was watching him with cool eyes. The eyes of someone who'd done this before. "You know what to do, then. Approach the door and walk through it to the other side."

Something in the way she sounded told him it wouldn't be a simple, two second thing, and Shikamaru's eyes darkened as he realized that he'd committed to walking through who knew what, for how long, until he made it out again.

No wonder, he thought, that she'd told him to pack for several days.

Nothing to be done now, though. _The only way out is through,_ Shikamaru thought distastefully and, before he could change his mind, took a step forward. Then another one. He kept his pace very deliberately even. Without haste, without hurrying, he contemplated the doorway his shadow had made, considered every pain that raced up and down his body, none of them serious but enough to be annoying, wondered just what would be on the other side.

"Shikamaru," Aunt Sadako said, her voice sounding like it came from a far way off as he paused right by his shadow door. He didn't turn to try and find her in the dim temple. Shikamaru kept his eyes steady on the doorway, on the black sinking darkness that somehow conveyed the impression of depth without ever changing colour or shade and waited for her to go on.

She sighed. "What ever happens," she continued, voice solemn, "remember this: _keep walking_. If you stop, it's over and you'll be lost in your own shadow."

His eyes narrowed slightly at that and he nodded to show that he understood. Lost, Shikamaru guessed, meant that there was no way to retrieve him. Once he went past the doorway, whatever help she could give him was next to non-existent and surviving was up to him.

With his chakra sealed and being inside his shadow, Shikamaru doubted that he'd be able to do much if it came to anything that required more than his mind and body could provide. He had been stripped of his most potent weapons.

All but one, and that one was the one that had gotten him promoted at thirteen.

Nevertheless, if he didn't make it, if he—stopped, whatever that meant, he'd never get out. The answer and solution had been given to him. It was up to him, now, to see that he managed to keep them in mind.

Shikamaru doubted that it would be easy.

If he was lost… he'd, in essence, die. This wasn't safe.

Well.

He was a shinobi of Konoha. He was a Chuunin of Konoha. His very profession wasn't safe and every mission he undertook had a degree of risk. Wasn't that, he thought, exactly why he'd been so hard on Ino lately? That was something to think of when he managed to get through his shadow.

Yet another problem to work through. He would do it; he wasn't a genius for nothing. For the first time he was glad that his team wasn't in the village—if they had been, Shikamaru wasn't sure that he'd have been able to come up with an excuse good enough for them to tolerate his disappearing for a few days.

_Enough stalling_, he scolded. He was just wasting time.

Without any more thought, refusing to allow anything else to distract him, Shikamaru walked through the doorway, back straight and head up without looking back.

If he'd looked back he would have seen something that would have distracted him, Shikamaru didn't question that bit of intuition, choosing instead to go forward.

What else was there to life but going forward in the face of opposition?

So it was, with that thought on his mind, he disappeared into the flickering doorway to the inside of his shadow. Walking through his shadow and then…

And then there was nothing in the temple but shadow.

* * *

Please review!


	6. Self Realization

Title: Walk Through Shadow  
Chapter: 06 Self-Realization  
Author/Artist: Killaurey  
Disclaimer: Naruto doesn't belong to me. It's Kishimoto's and I just play with it. AU immediately after the Sasuke Retrieval Arc. Part 6 of 7. Unbeta'd. Thanks so much to all who read, review, and lurk!

Notes: This is a side story to _Slow Burn_. It's not absolutely necessary to read Slow Burn, but it would probably help explain the backstory!

[Shikamaru centric] While Ino is off in Kumogakure for the Chuunin Exams, Shikamaru's nightmares worsen and his control over his shadow unravels. Getting it together again means facing his worst enemy—himself.

* * *

_Whatever you do_, Aunt Sadako had said, _keep walking_.

Shadow enveloped him. Encased him. Smothered him.

And yet he still breathed. Still moved. Shikamaru couldn't see anything, not even his hand in front of his face, but his legs-they moved.

Did it count as walking when he couldn't measure the distance? Was he simply walking in place? Making absolutely no progress? There were, he was sure, worse fates than being killed inside his own shadow. (Did that mean he'd simply disappeared and no one would ever find a body if he never made it back?) Worse things to think about, worse things to be, but Shikamaru wasn't sure what they could be right here and now.

Well.

He could think of one: having his team here with him. That would have been both a blessing and a horror. A blessing because there'd only been one mission, one time, when the four of them hadn't been deemed the most optimal team to take on a mission and succeed.

A curse because Shikamaru wasn't certain he'd be able to deal with his own self-blame over the fact that, if they had been here, then surely it would have been his fault.

The word echoed in his mind, in his thoughts, in his shadow.

Fault. Fault? Faultfault_fault_.

All his fault.

_Stop that_, he thought irritably at his shadow, at this empty dark world that he found himself in. _I didn't do anything_.

The darkness seemed to _shift_, seemed to twist and coil in on itself. Laughing. Was he imagining it? Shikamaru didn't know.

Wasn't sure he wanted to know.

_Isn't that what caused this mess in the first place?_

Shikamaru's head jerked up, eyes narrowing despite the fact that the gesture was a futile one-he couldn't see anything. What use was narrowing his eyes? But that, that there hadn't been from _him_. He fumbled for a weapon, forgetting for a second that he had none on him.

Just his mind.

_And a fine use you've put it to._

The voice speaks again and this time Shikamaru noticed what he hadn't before. It's a raspy, rough voice. A voice that left him feeling raw and scraped, on the inside, one just shy of being excruciatingly painful to listen to. Shikamaru wouldn't be surprised to discover that it _could_ dip to more painful depths with little effort. Not this voice. Not with the low menace and barely sheathed scorn present in it already.

What has he done?

Shikamaru kept walking. Remembered what his Aunt Sadako had said. Perhaps he only had to keep moving and eventually he'd be out of this. He didn't know. It was a question he hadn't thought to ask.

_Another one?_

His hand clenched as he strained his eyes and found nothing. As far as this world was concerned-there was nothing there. Not according to his senses. But he was able to hear-

_Haven't you figured it out yet?_

He frowned. It was tempting to continue to struggle to see but-pointless. Ridiculous. There was nothing to _be_ seen. But that wasn't the only sense he had and Shikamaru stumbled, nearly falling as he realized what an idiot he's been. Hurriedly, he closed his eyes and forcibly calmed his breathing.

Why was his heart beating so hard in his ears? Why was he only a step or two away from hyperventilating? He could feel that now, and recognize it, but when had it started?

He could hear nothing. Only his heart, his breathing as it steadied, and Shikamaru counseled himself towards patience.

_You've never been very good at that._

Shikamaru ignored the voice, the-delusion. (Was it a delusion? Was it real? How was he supposed to tell?) He concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other over and over again while he focused on trying to hear something, anything, more than the sounds of himself. He could hear himself loud and clear, down to each beat of his heart. But nothing else. Was he the only one in this shadow world?

_Were you expecting company?_

Was he? He hadn't, still didn't, know what to expect. Step by step, he refused to quite moving even as the shadows around him began to solidify. Harder to move through. More resistant with every step he took.

Why was that happening?

_You're not paying attention_.

Was _that_ help? Was it supposed to be? What was he missing? Shikamaru narrowed his eyes and forced himself to focus. What was he supposed to pay attention to? The shadow? His heartbeat? The way he couldn't see even a millimetre in front of his face? None of that was important.

_Unless it is_.

And he was supposed to make up his mind about that, how? Shikamaru pressed on doggedly. Stubbornly. All the while he struggled with the insidious urge to just... stop walking. Take a break, take a breather, take the time to get his equilibrium back and think.

_Hmph_.

Shikamaru shook his head. There was something wrong about that, something that he'd missed, but Shikamaru can't think of what it could be. Can't _think_. It was like the shadows around his body, around his legs and arms and feet and hands had crept into his mind and stifled all thought. Was this supposed to happen? Was this right? What is he supposed to do?

How was someone supposed to get out of this?

Was he _supposed_ to get out of this? That was a disturbing thought-perhaps this had been all some elaborate plot and he'd fallen right in with it, and gone along with exactly what they'd wanted. But who would want to do that and spend so much time and effort on a Chuunin who... who was so green that he hadn't even been able to get his team to believe and rely on him?

_And whose fault is that?_

The voice again. Shikamaru discovered that it _was_ possible to hate something he couldn't see. The voice, with the snide comments-was he supposed to listen to it? Pay attention to it? Talk back to it?

_You're doing that already_.

That, too, was distressing in a own way. He didn't want to have the voice in his head, being utterly unhelpful and more of a hindrance than anything else. Shikamaru could feel his tenuous grasp on his carefully wrought calm as it slowly slipped out of his control. The world was in darkness, he was in darkness-would he eventually become darkness?

"Do you want to?"

His head snapped up at the sound of _that_ voice-very different from the first-and one he was used to. Odd-Ino stood there, to his left. The only reason he could see her was because she was wreathed in a soft, pale luminescence that danced around her hair, her eyes, and her formal kimono. She looked ready to go to a festival, with a fan in hand and bells wound up with flowers in her hair. Geta and stockings. Her kimono was a dark blue with shimmery cranes and lilies parading across it in thread of silver and gold. Her obi white and green. A dark forest green.

Shikamaru had never been so glad to see her. He slowed, to stop and talk to her, his Aunt's admonitions fading from memory as he looked at her.

"Keep walking," Odd-Ino said, as her blue eyes danced with good humour. "I'll walk with you."

And so they did.

Somehow, with her beside him, it was easier to handle the darkness. The shadow. Shikamaru sneaked a glance at her. At her soft glow and the way she seemed utterly unaffected by the world they found themselves in. "What are you doing here?"

Odd-Ino stared back at him, the bells in her hair jingling merrily with every light step. "Where else should I be?"

Like that was the only answer that made sense. Maybe it was, to her. Shikamaru frowned and struggled to make sense of it. "We're in my shadow," he said slowly. "Not my head."

"Oh?"

He was fairly certain that Odd-Ino was laughing at him now. What _was_ the right answer?

"You've only ever shown up while my mind was asleep before," he tried again, stubbornly determined to figure this out in some way. And she was far better to deal with than the-other voice.

"The real and the unreal," Odd-Ino mused, "cannot coexist on the same plane of existence. How should I come to be while there's another me?"

Shikamaru's eyes narrowed at the rhyming in that. "You can't be anywhere that Ino is?"

"How would I exist then?" she asked, tilting her head enquiringly at him. "As the other exists to you as well-I should be no more than a figment, a fragment, of a breath of silence."

There was something inherently aggravating about _both_ Inos, he decided. Something that he didn't mind when they weren't around and then when they were...

He put up with it anyway. It was _stupid_.

There was something that seemed very backwards about that, but Shikamaru filed it away to think about later. "Why are you here?" he asked, again. As if the repetition would help him solve this particular mystery. Maybe solving one would help him think.

_You haven't been thinking anyway._

Odd-Ino blinked at him as he swore. Shikamaru had hoped that the two of them, one light, one decidedly not, could not bother him at the same time. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

He'd made an assumption.

"In my shadow," he began carefully, studiously not looking at Odd-Ino as he spoke. He didn't want to be influenced by her gaze and it was hard enough to focus his thoughts enough to phrase this. Like fighting through tar. "My subconscious has free reign?"

"Do you think so?" Odd-Ino wondered, tilting her head back. Shikamaru carefully kept from following her gaze and looking up to see what she was glancing at. He had to keep focused on this. On what he was doing right here and now. She didn't seem alarmed either way.

"Should I not?" he countered. As long as he kept from looking her way, the shadows seemed a bit easier to move in. He wasn't sure how that worked. Wasn't sure why. Wasn't going to ignore that fact either.

"Facts are illusion to whims," Odd-Ino said distantly, the chime of her bells a counterpoint to her words as she walked with him. "The shadow has a heartbeat."

And that was supposed to mean what? "Facts are facts," he answered. "That's why they're called that."

All he got for that attempt was a grin that was three parts impish and one part maddeningly vague. "So?"

He deliberately took a few moments before trying to answer that. There was no need to lose his temper along with his mind. As that was what seemed to have happen here and that was-not something he wished to consider too heavily. He was in his shadow, talking to something, some_one_ who was a part of his dreams. Not his reality.

Were they blurring? Were they merging?

Shikamaru wished he could get a few solid answers. That wasn't so much to ask was it, truly? Only Odd-Ino was the worst person for giving him the answers he wanted and the other voice...

Something told him that he didn't want to ask the other voice his questions.

_Scared you won't like the answers?_

Scorn. Dripping with it. Wreathed with it. It washed over him, encircled him. The other was laughing at him. Shikamaru clenched his hands before deliberately relaxing them. He didn't want to upset Odd-Ino.

What if she left him? Left him all alone in the darkness. But it was _his_ darkness. Shouldn't he be alright? Nonetheless, he didn't want to be left alone. There was something dreadfully oppressive about being here. Smothering him, pressurizing him. It was nice to have someone around who didn't think that he was utterly worthless.

_Right now? You practically are._

"Facts," he said, stubbornly continuing this conversation. "Are what people use to base their speculations on. They've got to be solid and unchangeable-otherwise, how can anything be theorized?"

Odd-Ino, who seemed utterly unbothered by the long silence between their conversation, glanced at him and for a moment he was staring into blindingly bright blue eyes. Whatever shadow was eating him, she seemed only brighter in return. That, part of him mused, was both unfair and unsettling on levels he wasn't sure he wanted to explore yet.

_Like everything else_.

"Facts can change like the leaves in autumn," she said, with a light laugh. "What is true and unmovable one day is not the same the next, yes?"

Shikamaru frowned at that. "No," he said slowly. "A person's perspective of what the facts are can change but a true fact does not change. The only thing that does is how it's viewed by the observer."

"Observers never dance!" Odd-Ino looked at him indignantly. "Little point, no way to fly."

... he wasn't sure where dancing had come from. Or the flying. Though Shikamaru supposed that both were linked to freedom. He wasn't sure, either, what he'd said that had roused her ire but he studied her out of the corner of his eye as she frowned.

_What is your answer?_

"Why do you care?" Shikamaru muttered, under his breath.

Odd-Ino blinked at him, hurt chasing over her face. "How can you ask that?" she asked, sounding betrayed.

Crap. Crap. "I didn't mean you," he said hastily, holding his hands up. "I know why you care."

Or not-but her caring was far more palatable and understandable than the other's questions and seeming of interest.

She looked unimpressed with him. "Who?"

Shikamaru hesitated. "Me, I suppose," he said slowly. Not wanting to sound like he was insane and admit that there was another voice in here that kept needling him. It was peculiar but-in front of Odd-Ino, no. He would not admit to that. What if it was insanity come to grab him up now that he'd been foolish enough to wander into its grasp in a world where it held more sway than reason and fact?

_Depends on the reason and on the fact._

Strangely, or not so strangely, enough that answer satisfied Odd-Ino. "And your answer?"

It took him a moment to place want answer she could want from him. Why do you care? Observers didn't dance... he shook his head, trying to set the tumble of thoughts in order and knowing he had no time to do so. There was nowhere to rest, nowhere to breathe and just lay back and watch the clouds. Going forward, he'd have to rely on what he could do on the fly.

Which wasn't his greatest strength and Shikamaru was well aware of that fact.

"Observers are not observers for every fact," he said, choosing to answer the first statement rather than the last. "But everyone is an observer at some point in their life. The world doesn't revolve around any single one person so, by that fact, everyone must be content at some point to simply sit back and watch what's going on."

Odd-Ino toyed with the bells in her hair. Setting off a merry jingle that rolled through the darkness and seemed far too loud. "And you? Always observing?"

He winced. More often than not, admittedly, he preferred to be the observer. "Not always," he said slowly. "But often, yes."

"Not much of one for dancing," she replied, almost sadly.

"It's troublesome." That much, at least, Shikamaru felt like he was on pretty solid ground about. It _was_ troublesome being involved with all the little dramas or excitements that came up amongst everyone he knew. Pick a side, explain why you were on that side, have get people mad for not being on _their_ side... he didn't think it was worth it, mostly.

"But worth it," Odd-Ino tried, clasping her hands in front of her. "What else is friendship?"

What else _was_ friendship? Shikamaru found himself at a loss as to how to explain how he didn't quite think that what she was saying was entirely correct-friendship was, it was...

What was it exactly?

He frowned, for the first time noticing that his steps had slowed, and deliberately forced himself to keep going, step by step. One foot in front of the other. How long had he been walking? His internal clock said hours but not all of what was... internal… _was_ so here.

It was entirely possible that he'd been in here far longer than he thought. It was, Shikamaru conceded, also entirely possible that he'd only been in his shadow for seconds rather than hours.

It was impossible to know for sure until he got out of here. And that was a disturbing thought. He knew better than to ask Odd-Ino about it, however, as she'd never had much of a sense of time or, to be entirely honest, if only to himself, she'd never had much sense period.

Except when she wanted to. Then she made entirely too much sense.

It was a peculiar and unsettling thought, the unbidden idea that she was toying with him. How did a subconscious entity play with the conscious one?

_Do you really need an answer to that?_

Well, he'd like one, actually. The conscious mind was what made all the decisions after all. Held the reins and steered them through trouble and good times alike. Wasn't that right? It sounded right, to him, but Shikamaru was coming to the uncomfortable realization that everything he thought and everything he assumed were not always-correct. Accurate.

A distressing contemplation.

_Nothing more or less distressing than your own willful continuation of such behaviour._ The other voice rasped at him, and now he could sense that the voice was twisted and wrong-like metal left to rust. Flour left to rot. Rope left to decay.

Shikamaru glanced side-long at Odd-Ino and wondered why she wasn't affected the same way. Weren't they all part of his mind? If there was a problem then all of them should be carrying the burden of it.

That made... it _fit_.

_But not if one knows all the facts_.

What were the facts, then? He could only work with what he knew. His own eyes told him that Odd-Ino seemed to be well enough-she looked almost placid right then and there. Seemingly unperturbed by his lack of answering her question again. Something, he mused, that the real Ino would never let him get away with. That was both interesting and a difference he thought might be important.

Just... he wasn't sure how.

_Are you really sure of anything at the moment?_

Not really. He could admit that in the privacy of his own head. Odd-Ino looked well, but was she? How was he supposed to know? If he asked and she answered in her usual way Shikamaru was fairly certain that all would happen would be further confusion. And the other voice... what did he know about it?

The questions it asked-there were many of them. They all seemed to be designed to put him at a disadvantage and lead his thoughts. The voice sounded _wrong_ but not wrong the way something that didn't belong did. This voice _did_ belong.

But there was something wrong with it.

He narrowed his eyes. The darkness pressed in around him and he realized that Odd-Ino had faded away, leaving him alone. Shikamaru froze, not moving for nearly thirty seconds as his heartbeat sounded in his ears with all the noise of a drum during a festival.

_Whatever happens, keep walking. Don't stop no matter what._

Aunt Sadako's voice. Firm and crisp in his head. Just a little worried. Much like she'd sounded right before he'd left her. Was that her voice now or just the memory of it? With effort, more effort than he'd thought it would take-the shadow had begun solidifying around his feet in the moments he'd been lost in thought and he had to wrench himself free-Shikamaru forced himself onwards.

Odd-Ino would be fine, surely. She wasn't the sort to be injured by this. Not when she belonged here, the same way the other voice did and he...

Did and did not belong here. Something called to him about this place, crying 'home' despite the fact that the only thing around them was darkness. Nothing to make a home out of at all. Shikamaru couldn't figure out where to begin asking questions about that. About any of it really. Was he supposed to take this on faith and trust that it would turn out alright?

Or was he supposed to do something more?

Something more, something less. He didn't _know_. There were no easy answers here-nothing was laid out logically so that he could form enough of an understanding to figure out how to move from point A to point B and Shikamaru chafed at that inability. His mind-what use was he mind if he couldn't _do_ anything with it?

_Now you're just making up excuses_.

Was he? Shikamaru threw the question back into the silence, almost defiantly. He knew the voice was answering his thoughts-why not address some of them directly to him? He was trying, what more was wanted from him? How was he supposed to work like this? Grit his teeth and bear it? Shrug it off and deal with the fact that this was utterly illogical and he was doing nothing but _walking_ and how was that supposed to help anything? Was he supposed to learn something from this?

If the lesson he was supposed to learn was 'how to be frustrated by the vagaries of vagueness' then Shikamaru was pretty sure that he had that one in the bag. Tied up with a bow. This was not his idea of fun.

_Now who said this would be fun?_

Amusement, again. He ground his teeth, knowing he was going to wind up with a headache from the motion-he always did. "What do you want me to do?" he asked, raising his voice and sounding flat.

Unimpressed.

Maybe a bit tired, which hadn't been his intention at all. It was too late to take it back and start over though and so Shikamaru didn't bother to try and cover. Why not? He _was_ tired. Tired and sick of walking-a fine sentiment when ninja were meant, and trained, to be able to run for days on end with only minimal breaks-but it wasn't a tired of a body, it was a tired of the mind. This place, with the unrelenting darkness and absolute aimlessness sucked at his spirit and that was more exhausting than a run ever was.

_What I've always wanted you to do: think and admit._

Shikamaru frowned. Oh, he was glad enough that the voice had chosen to answer him. It was the answer that had him frowning. Think, he could understand. Thinking he could do: about his situation, about Odd-Ino, about the voice, about his friends (and what were they doing now, he wondered idly, the exam would have started a bit ago, surely), about his family, about Aunt Sadako...

But admit?

_Admit_. The voice was stern, raspy and heart-recoiling. Listening to it was _hard_. The knowledge, the guess, that the voice had been warped by something here was all that made him listen. If he could figure this out, the voice might sound the way it should again. _You've the habit of rationalizing your faults away._

... That was insulting. Shikamaru crossed his arms defensively. "Like what?"

Even as he asked, his mind was racing, trying to figure out what could possibly have been taken that way when he was fairly certain that he didn't do any such thin-

_Like you are now._

Shikamaru flushed. Anger colouring his cheeks and his walk was a bit more of a stalk now, which was… not his most mature behaviour, but who was going to know? This was inside of his shadow: if he couldn't be himself here, then there was no where he could. And at this point he was feeling sort of emotionally bruised. How did he rationalize things? He'd just been trying to think of examples…

_No,_ the voice scolded, _you were looking for situations that you could spin to say that I'd gotten the wrong idea. Don't lie to me, there's no one in the world that it's less effective on. Not here._

There was a hint in that. A rather significant one, unless he was completely missing his guess. Maybe he was-Shikamaru waited for an insult from the voice and, when none seemed to be forthcoming, continued on with his thought. He couldn't lie to the voice-or, he could, but the voice would see right through it with very little effort.

Who could see through him with little effort unless he exerted a great deal of it?

He snorted as Ino came to mind, with her blue eyes, sharp tongue, temper to match his and her willingness to flare up at the least provocation.

_Is that really so different than your pulling behind a mask of indifference?_

"Why can't you let me finish a thought before setting a new one on me?" Shikamaru asked snippily. It didn't hide his frustration at all, but he wasn't trying to hide it by this point. It was _tiring_ dealing with this and he'd never had much patience for riddles of this sort. That was more Ino's thing-mind games. Give him a good old-fashioned puzzle or strategy game.

This fooling around with questions just... wasn't working for him. "I mean," he continued, drawling the words as he continued walked. And stubbornly ignored the fact that it was steadily getting harder to walk. He noticed it and filed it away for observation, then dropped it. Nothing he could do about it now so there was no need to fuss about it. "If you truly wanted to help then you'd be giving me more to work with."

That was fair, he thought. It wasn't like he was asking for everything to be set out neatly on a platter but this was-this was _useless_. What was he learning? Absolutely nothing.

Except, he reminded himself, that there was another voice besides Odd-Ino's in his head that was very obviously _twisted_ by something being seriously wrong. Was it something that could be fixed? Was that part of the problem here? That he needed to put the facts together and work out a solution to this mess the other voice had gotten into?

_Since when does life come in baby steps and pleasant sequential order?_

If he didn't know better, didn't know that the voice was mocking him, he'd have thought it sounded honestly frustrated. Shikamaru frowned as he peered ahead. Still nothing to be seen, it was an empty attempt and he'd known that before making it. Sight was, clearly, something he took too much for granted. On the other hand there hadn't been anything in here that he'd needed to see.

So why, then, had Odd-Ino been glowing with her own light?

"What happened to-" he hesitated a moment, not wanting to name her with his name out-loud. It did, after all, sound rather like an insult to her though he didn't mean it as such. It was just what she _was_ to him. "Odd-Ino?"

_Why do you care?_ Honestly curious sounding.

Shikamaru made a face at that. Why _did_ he care about a snippet of his sub-consciousness? Gee, he didn't know.

_Sarcasm. Lovely._ And _that_ held plenty of it all by itself.

He shrugged and glanced around as if that would make her reappear. "She and I-we're used to each other." That was a good enough answer, wasn't it? Probing it too far made him think he'd find out a few things that he wasn't sure he wanted to know about himself quite yet.

He got along well enough with her and she was a mostly comfortable presence to him. It wasn't her fault that he loathed the nightmares that her appearance precluded.

_That's a lukewarm response, isn't it?_

"How much of an answer do you want?" he demanded, pinching the bridge of his nose. "We get along. I'd miss her if she left entirely. What _more_ do you need?" He felt unsettled at this line of questioning. This _walk_ had been one slow disaster after another as far as he was concerned.

(Alright, _disaster_ was probably a bit too harsh, but it hadn't been all fun and roses.)

_I took her away,_ the voice said, sounding smug. _She was distracting you, not helping like I'd thought she might._

It startled him, the surge of anger that rushed through his mind like a red river of fury, that set his ears to ringing, at the thought of anyone sending her away from him deliberately. Like she was a tool. "Repeat _that_." His voice had sunk to something cold and brittle.

There was no mistaking the rumbling in the shadow for anything other than laughter. No chance that he could, not in a million years. His hands clenched. "I said," Shikamaru repeated, raising his voice. "_Repeat that_." _Now._ Who _was_ this voice that could handle Odd-Ino like that? And how _dare he_?

How dare he pull something like that in _Shikamaru's_ mind?

_You're angry,_ the voice was pleased, almost gloating. _Come and find me, then. Perhaps I'll tell you if you do._

Perhaps. If. Shikamaru's eyes narrowed further. "How do you expect me to find you?"

Another shadow ruffling laugh. _How else? By walking forward._

Walking forward? Did that mean this voice was his... destination? Had it always been his destination? It was now, Shikamaru acknowledged. Because he was _going_ to find this voice and get Odd-Ino back. "How much further do I have to go to get near you?"

Slow, considering silence was his answer for a few moments before, _Less than you had to go a few moments ago. Progress comes in all forms._

"What-"

_That's your final hint. Make what you will of it._

And then the shadow around him felt emptier than before and Shikamaru knew he was more alone in the darkness than he'd been since the beginning of this journey. Gritting his teeth, letting his anger settle deep and sullen in his mind, he kept walking. One step in front of the other, over and over.

As he walked, he brooded, carefully sending the flames of fury higher and gathering his strength. He had… no idea what he'd have to do to get her back, not here, not in this weaponless dark. But that, Shikamaru decided, was no reason to go unprepared.

He didn't know how long he'd been walking, or how far he'd travelled. It didn't really matter, he admitted to himself, just that he wasn't out of the shadow yet and now that Odd-Ino had come and then been taken away the silence echoed louder than it had.

A little bit lonely, he thought, then tucked that away with the other thoughts he wasn't quite ready to fully contemplate about Ino, odd or otherwise.

_Just keep walking._

He wondered if Aunt Sadako had known how much of a lifeline her words would be. Without them as a guide in his mind, a firm directive for him to keep going towards, he was nearly certain that he'd have sat down by now.

Just to think. To get his head on straight. Not because he was tired-however long he'd been walking so far, it was nothing compared to the days where Asuma-sensei made them run for hours.

Even with her voice in his head, it was hard to keep going because the darkness and utter emptiness that stared back into him, penetratingly, was something felt like an oppressively heavy a burden to carry, and a break from that would be nice.

Somehow, he thought-he _knew?_-that the burden would drop away if he sat.

All the more reason for him to not sit, Shikamaru told himself sternly. And kept walking.

If the shadow world around him wanted him to sit and rest, then that was the best reason he had to _not_ do so. There'd been nothing in this dangerous, depressing place to convince him otherwise.

Nonetheless, as he fought the compulsion to sit, sweat beaded down his back, down his forehead, and each step took more effort than the last. Moving forward had never been this difficult.

_Sit down!_ cried the shadow around him.

Shikamaru narrowed his eyes and carried on. He didn't know if he was going in the right direction but there was no way to _tell_ and that meant any direction was a good one, so long as it didn't involve sitting down.

Shikamaru set his chin stubbornly. He wasn't the most pro-active ninja, he was a reactive one. That, he thought, was a good thing in this case, as he was reacting, struggling against the confusing clamour that had wound through his shadow that attempted to convince him to believe it would be for the best if he stuck around.

"Would it really be that bad?"

Shikamaru startled, stumbled, at the entirely unexpected voice.

It was Chouji, only like Odd-Ino this Chouji is slightly different from the one he knew. Longer hair-more like Akimichi Chouza, he thought, with the part of him that was still observing everything the way a ninja was supposed to-and the way he stood, full of confidence, was a stance that Shikamaru had never seen before. Immediately after that, he registered the armour that Chouji was wearing. _It suits him,_ Shikamaru thought. It was still a surprise.

"Staying here?" Shikamaru asked, picking out the glow that had marked Odd-Ino and not sure if he should trust Odd-Chouji. What was the shadow realm playing at? "I think it would be."

Odd-Chouji looked thoughtful, nearly wise, and Shikamaru's lips twitched slightly in the faintest hint of a smile. Since when had Chouji been _wise?_

_That's unfair_, the odd rasping voice murmured. _You are well aware of his intelligence._

Shikamaru brushed that thought off, even while he mused that it was harder to watch his mouth and his thoughts than it had ever been to guard his mouth solely.

"Why not?"

Odd-Chouji's question distracted him from his thoughts and Shikamaru shook his head while he focused on the question. "I guess," Shikamaru said slowly, "because this world isn't the world I'm _supposed_ to be out and about in. Aunt Sadako said I might be in here a good while and that means-time is passing out there."

Odd-Chouji nodded at that. "It is passing."

Shikamaru had the funniest feeling that the undercurrent of those words in that pleasant tone was 'what are you going to do about it?' and he wasn't sure how to answer that for a long moment. This wasn't the Chouji he was used to though this one still felt familiar.

_I'm going to get out_ he thought, and wasn't particularly surprised when Odd-Chouji nodded as if he'd said the words aloud. In this world everything was a combination of in his head and not and maybe, just maybe, he was starting to get used to it.

Was that a good thing to get used to? Either way, he had to adapt sometime, he supposed, and it was better to do so now than to do it later when it might be-too late.

"How are you going to do that?" Odd-Chouji asked, serenely ignoring the rest of his thoughts.

Which, Shikamaru thought, was something to be grateful for. Being stuck in his shadow and talking to mind-reading near versions of his friends had the effect of throwing him off balance. Shikamaru filed that away but doubted that it'd be an issue elsewhere once he managed to get out of his shadow. At least, he hoped not.

What sort of jutsu would be able to replicate this effect? If there was one, he was fairly certain that he didn't want to know about.

"Right now," he said slowly, "I have to keep walking."

"Walking just means you won't get stuck," Odd-Chouji observed quietly and Shikamaru glanced side-long at him as he continued on. "It doesn't mean you're making progress. The progress you feel here is illusionary."

Hmm. Shikamaru spent a few moments concentrating on, well, yes just walking. He had to. The going was getting harder and harder as the shadow he was moving in, through, on, seemed to have a personal grudge against him. Chouji, he noted, had no such difficulties in moving and remained silent on possible ways for him to achieve the same thing. He wondered if it was against the rules of the place to offer him more information than he already had.

So walking was useless. Well, he amended quickly, not useless, but not the answer in and of itself which would have been too easy Shikamaru supposed.

He didn't agree but then, this was hardly his world and his rules.

That meant he had to keep walking and do whatever it was that would get him out of here in one piece and not just-disappear the way Aunt Sadako had warned him some Nara had done. _Fantastic_, Shikamaru thought, adding one more thing to his list of the impossible he had to accomplish.

"Not so impossible," murmured Odd-Chouji.

Shikamaru narrowed his eyes slightly, all the while considering that, even as he studied the soft glow that surrounded Odd-Chouji. In the darkness, used to the darkness, the glow almost hurt his eyes and it seemed-harsher than the glow Odd-Ino had had around herself.

He wondered at the differences and if they meant anything. Ino would be pissed if it was just because she was a girl and, for a moment, Shikamaru amused himself with thinking that probably meant that _was_ the reason, considering that this was his shadow.

He liked being a pain in that way. And Ino reacted beautifully to it. It was a shame, though, that he'd never be able to tell her.

All of this was _definitely_ covered and hidden by the Clan Confidential. He didn't need to ask or think about that one to know for sure-there was no way that Nara would ever have allowed information about all of this to be given out freely amongst the entirety of the village.

Shikamaru wondered how many secrets had been lost due to the wars. Was it true that only he and Aunt Sadako knew about this aspect of the shadows?

With a shake of his head, he glanced back at Chouji. "What do I have to do to get out of here then?"

But Odd-Chouji was fading away, a smile on his face. "You already know what to do."

And then he was alone. Again. With nothing to do but go forward.

As he walked, he didn't bother to keep track of time. Perhaps he was being weak: he should keep track of time, so as at least to be able to guess how long this misadventure was taking and how much time had passed in the outside world.

But he decided not to.

There's nothing he could do for the outside world. This wasn't, he intuitively grasped, a task that he could hurry so as to minimize the time taken and who was to say if the time out there was the same as the time in here? Not he, not when all he knew was the darkness, the length of his stride, and the absolutely impossible to ignore fact that something was dreadfully wrong with the inside of his shadow.

He could feel it now. There was a discordant harmony to the darkness. Like everything was off-key and ringing in his ears, only it was ringing through his shadow instead, and there had to be a way to fix it but-how was he supposed to do that? Who knew how to do that?

Shikamaru suspected that, in this particular case, any answer was going to have to come from himself. His father had once told him that everyone's shadow responded differently to being used in Nara jutsu, that no two shadows were exactly alike. Some were more willing to respond to certain attacks while others needed more chakra to pull off the same. They all had a different feel.

Was this the same thing as that only twice, three times, magnified and expanded upon? Shikamaru thought that might be the truth. It _did_ made sense, if nothing else, and having something make sense was a great comfort to him in this unchanging place. Aunt Sadako hadn't warned him how wearying it would be, he thought, turning his mind to that.

And she hadn't mentioned the voices at all.

Shikamaru wondered if she hadn't _known_-if all shadows were different then it was entirely possible that she truly _hadn't_ and hadn't wanted to hazard a guess about what might or might not be found inside of his shadow. He supposed that was reasonable and understandable and that he couldn't truly blame her for it-

Even though part of him, a small petty part, wanted to. Wanted to wail and protest and claim this wasn't what he'd had in mind when she'd mentioned walking through his shadow. That, he knew, was beyond childish.

But the dark: he hadn't expected it and should have. What _had_ he expected the inside of a shadow to look like? Shikamaru was disturbed to realize that he hadn't thought about it. That wasn't like him. Why hadn't he?

The voices, well, those weren't so very unexpected either when he stopped making up excuses for himself and thought about it instead of shying away from the possibility of something like that. But was that all that had kept him from thinking of it? Laziness?

A mental review of the past few days gave him an unsettling answer. Too many times he'd just brushed something off that he shouldn't have. Too many times he'd just closed down a line of thought that might have led him to a different conclusion to say it was simple circumstance. Shikamaru was _lazy_, he wasn't stupid. And the boy whose memories he was reviewing had been very stupid, many times over, in the last few days.

There were unsettling _blanks_ in his memory as well. Why had he felt so sick and dizzy in the kitchen and why had he _forgotten_ that so quickly? Why had he tripped and lost track of time in the street? Sleeping during the day, while studying and feverishly looking things up, wasn't like him. When he wanted to, he could focus. An impromptu nap, when he'd been getting plenty of sleep, seemed more than a little odd on reflection and he remembered waking up feeling more tired than he'd been before the nap.

He niggled at his memory. Aunt Sadako had been right with him the first and second times. But the third?

Had she been there at all?

He wondered if he was onto something or if he was just barking up the wrong tree. It was impossible to tell right now and, he thought, underneath the anger, that that was one of the many things that was irritating him so. Shikamaru didn't _like_ situations like this.

_You don't always get what you like, boy_, he could picture his Aunt Sadako saying, with a scornful toss of her head. Surely she'd said something like that to him before. It sounded like her and while there were others in the Clan who'd say the same thing, he couldn't picture them saying it quite her way... but funny how he couldn't remember exactly a time when she would have said anything like that. Where had his certainty come from?

Shikamaru shook his head irritably. The reason for that, he thought, was likely because he was stuck in here and not at his best in any sense of the word when it came to thinking, reacting, and figuring things out... was it the darkness itself doing that?

He kept walking-there was nothing else he could do. If moving forward meant that he'd eventually get out of here, eventually find out what had happened to Odd-Ino, find out more about that voice...

Then walking it was.

It felt like slogging through quick-sand. The darkness coiled around his feet, his legs, sometimes crawling as high as his knees, in an attempt to slow him down. This shadow was hostile and Shikamaru found himself sweating as his continued on. Walking was an _effort_ in this place. Was it supposed to be? Part of him admitted that the work involved made the task seem more likely to fail for some.

But it wouldn't for him.

Lazy, he absolutely was, and proud of it. Accomplishing something with the minimum of effort needed was something he excelled in.

But he'd never failed to put forth the effort when it really mattered.

He kept walking. One foot laboriously hauled up and then set down and then the other, his own shadow fighting him every step of the way. Was it here that other Nara had given up? Become too tired to continue on? Had been so disheartened by the unrelenting darkness and the additional struggle of fighting against themselves that they'd just not been able to keep walking?

Not, he conceded, that a break didn't sound _amazing_ right now. Maybe that was more it-rather than being crushed by the opposing forces in their own shadows, they'd taken a break, stopped moving long enough to catch their breath and that had proven to be long enough for them to be trapped. _Keep walking_, Aunt Sadako had said.

He would.

Though he would have liked to know how long he had to walk-though on second thought, perhaps he wouldn't like to know that. Was it not better to work in the darkness, completely blind, and not have to deal with potentially finding out he was less than a third of the way through or something of that ilk? _That_, Shikamaru thought, _would be likely to crush spirits faster_.

Perhaps this was a blessing in disguise.

... A really _good_ disguise.

He snorted and narrowed his eyes as they, sensitized to the utter dark, picked out a fleck of light in the distance. Was he leaving his shadow? He needed to find that voice and Odd-Ino. But the light, soft in the distance and only something he could see because of the rest of the area being so shrouded in gloom...

Shikamaru kept walking. What else was there to do? If he tried altering he route, he didn't know where he'd wind up. He didn't know where he was going _now_ for that matter. He frowned as he slowly drew closer to the light, each step a monumental effort but he kept his eyes focused on what was, at least for the moment, his temporary goal.

Better than having none. And not so unreasonable as to instill despair.

But the light, he realized, straining his eyes, wasn't the first obstacle in his path that was coming up.

And, he realized, with a jolt of pure _fury_ surging through him, the light in the distance was Odd-Ino. He could just make out her long hair and kimono now. More a smudge of colour against the darkness, but he _knew_ it was her, with cold, hard certainty.

Far in front of her, and it was with a sinking feeling that Shikamaru suspected that here, in this world, distance was exactly what the _other_ wanted it to be-was a table. And someone sitting at it, looking down at a scroll. Shikamaru tried to hurry his steps but couldn't.

He could walk. Anything faster proved to be impossible.

As he got closer-part of the light he'd noticed and thought all Odd-Ino's, appeared to be coming from the table. It was a very familiar table-the ones he'd seen in the temple, the one he'd fallen through in his dreams, the one he and Odd-Ino usually had their tea at...

Shikamaru came to a dead stop, just outside of the light that the table gave off and felt the world spin and realign around him as he realized just who he'd been facing.

"It took you long enough to figure it out," and it was the other's voice, coming from the person who sat at the table, that same painful, twisted rasp that had taunted him the whole way. "Shikamaru."

Shrouded in darkness, cynicism etched deeply in his eyes and a sardonic, mocking smile on his lips… was himself.

* * *

Please review!


	7. Self Actualization

Title: Walk Through Shadow  
Chapter: 07 Self-Actualization  
Author/Artist: Killaurey  
Disclaimer: Naruto doesn't belong to me. It's Kishimoto's and I just play with it. AU immediately after the Sasuke Retrieval Arc. Part 7 of 8. (Just the epilogue left!) Unbeta'd. Thanks so much to all who read, review, and lurk!

Notes: This is a side story to _Slow Burn_. It's not absolutely necessary to read Slow Burn, but it would probably help explain the backstory!

[Shikamaru centric] While Ino is off in Kumogakure for the Chuunin Exams, Shikamaru's nightmares worsen and his control over his shadow unravels. Getting it together again means facing his worst enemy—himself.

* * *

Shock made his thoughts slow. None of his cleverness mattered in the face of himself. Who was also the o_ther_. Shikamaru stared, unabashedly, at the other version of him. He felt both wrong-footed and confused and that irritated him.

The other him didn't look precisely the way he, the original Shikamaru, did. His eyes picked out small details, small differences. _We sit differently,_ he thought. _I look lazy while he looks prepared, for all that we both slouch._

Odd-Shikamaru stared back at him, seemingly content to wait him out as he stumbled through his shock.

Shikamaru spared a brief moment to concede, with a twinge, that his mother would probably like Odd-Shikamaru's way of sitting better than his. He wasn't quite sure how to feel about being upstaged by a figment of himself.

They appeared to be the same age. Certainly, they had the same earrings, the same haircut. Both wore the Chuunin vest, though Odd-Shikamaru wore his open over a standard issue Chuunin uniform, whereas Shikamaru wore his over his more casual pants and shirt.

Feeling mildly put-upon, Shikamaru stared at the table that separated them. There was nothing on the table. He frowned when he realized the patterned square tiles made the table look like an over-sized Go board. Why hadn't he noticed that before? It wasn't Shogi but Go was...

A game where the mind was what let you win. He wasn't bad at it.

"Aunt Sadako said that I have to keep walking," he said quietly. His voice echoed in the pool of light that surrounded the table, surrounded them. He was surprised to find how firm his voice sounded and pleased.

Already he worried that he'd been standing still for far too long and that he was trapped now, lost in his own shadow. Shikamaru braced himself then carefully lifted one foot. He very nearly overbalanced.

The restricting shadows were gone.

"You can rest here without fear of being trapped," Odd-Shikamaru said breaking his silence. "It's really only a warning that needs to be heeded prior to finding yourself in here."

Shikamaru stared at him, skepticism warring with the evidence he'd been provided with.

"Aunt Sadako didn't say anything about that." His eyes narrowed. Was it his other half that was the liar or was that his aunt? Shikamaru shoved his hands into his pockets. "Why should I believe you?"

He didn't _want _to believe Odd-Shikamaru. Not when he'd been given no answers, not when Odd-Ino was still a shining glimpse in the distance. Which was unusual enough to worry about, like he hadn't already had enough on his mind.

"You're under no obligation to believe me," Odd-Shikamaru replied. Dark humour glinted in his eyes. It disconcerted Shikamaru. It was _wrong _to stare at himself and hear that painful rasp of something gone hideously wrong. He wondered if that was all his fault somehow.

They were inside his shadow, his head. Odd-Ino and Odd-Chouji were definitely constructs of his subconscious. Did that mean Odd-Shikamaru was yet another construct? Shikamaru didn't know what he'd done to cause this.

"There's no obligation to believe me," Odd-Shikamaru repeated with a shake of his head. "But what will you do to get past me?"

Shikamaru blinked. In that eye-blink the small two-seater table had _grown_. Even as he watched, it shot out on each side, expanding with every second and stretching out into the darkness.

"I can get over a table," Shikamaru said crossly. "That's just insulting."

"Would you dare?" Odd-Shikamaru rasped, with a glance at the table. The light around them collapsed leaving them in darkness for the span of five seconds and then the patterned tiles on the table began to glow. They stuck out starkly against the darkness. Enough so that Shikamaru's eyes watered.

_None of this makes sense, _he thought plaintively. It was comforting to consider that perhaps this was all a very elaborate genjutsu, Shikamaru knew in his bones that it wasn't.

This was real.

_How _it was real, Shikamaru didn't know. The world felt too... solid for all that none of it appeared to follow the usual rules about how things worked. But then, why should the inside of his mind follow the laws of outside of it?

Shikamaru shook his head, realizing that Odd-Shikamaru was still waiting for an answer. Another difference, Shikamaru realized. Odd-Shikamaru had far more patience than he did.

"What would be the consequences of action or inaction?" He realized, after he spoke that he'd phrased his question to make it sound like he was reconsidering going over the table. Shikamaru sighed. "Why won't this affect the rest of the walk?"

"Where is the safest place to be in a tornado?" Odd-Shikamaru sounded bored as he leaned back in the chair.

Shikamaru scowled. "Either far away from it or in the eye of it."

Odd-Shikamaru nodded. His eyes glinted in the glow the table gave off. "You're not far away from it."

"Then I'm safe here," Shikamaru said, "unless the storm moves on."

Odd-Shikamaru raised his right hand in a languid gesture. A chair popped into existence beside Shikamaru, who inched away from it. "That's it exactly," Odd-Shikamaru said agreeably. "Please, take a seat."

Shikamaru hesitated. The chair had appeared out of nowhere-what were the odds that it would disappear without warning? He glanced at Odd-Shikamaru. Why was he the one that had to go through this?

"Consider that to be an accident of birth," Odd-Shikamaru said with a smirk toying on his lips as he answered Shikamaru's thoughts. "Sit. There is nothing here that will harm you without your permission."

Shikamaru started. Did that mean everything that had happened to him had occurred _with _his permission? Shikamaru grudgingly sat down in the chair, with the air of one condemned to unspeakable torture. Nothing happened.

He narrowed his eyes at Odd-Shikamaru. The power the other him had was as warm against his skin. Like Odd-Shikamaru's power was a small sun. Shikamaru wasn't going to fool himself into thinking he had any advantage here, even if he had to give his permission to be hurt.

Especially when he lacked his shadow. Which, considering that they were in it, made sense. It still left him disgruntled. He wondered… maybe Odd-Shikamaru, the table, the chairs... maybe those were all a product of his shadow as well. Or of his mind. Where was the line drawn between his mind and his shadow? He didn't know.

For most people, a shadow was just a shadow. For the Nara their shadows were more than that. A _lot_more. That much he'd learnt before every attending the Academy. Now he wondered, how much more? What had they done in order to get their facility with shadows?

Had it been bred into them? By their own natural selection? Each generation strengthening their natural inclination towards the shadows that eventually the shadows had taken lives of their own? Aunt Sadako had said it had been going on for a while.

Why and when had it started? Had Aunt Sadako been wrong?

"She wasn't all wrong." Odd-Shikamaru smiled sardonically. "Of course, 'Aunt Sadako' is hardly an unbiased source. By necessity her point of view is different on this matter."

Shikamaru leaned forward. "What do you know about Aunt Sadako?" Was she simply another construct of his shadow? His mind? Had he been so desperate for a teacher that he'd made one up?

"Oh," Odd-Shikamaru replied, almost lazily. "A fair bit. I assure you that she didn't come from your head. She's real in her own way."

"Real in her own way?" Shikamaru asked sharply, remembering how his mother had been worried and his father had been-_off_. How had he missed that before? Why hadn't it mattered?

"You didn't want to know the answers." Odd-Shikamaru's eyes flickered with a dark light. "There's none so blind as those who refuse to see, you know. You've been so busy hiding in the sand that all your answers are wrong."

"How is this supposed to help me?" Shikamaru demanded. "What am I supposed to understand from this? Take away from it? I can't read your thoughts."

Odd-Shikamaru's lips curved in a twisted smile. "You'll understand soon enough. As for Aunt Sadako, if you get out of here, I suggest you ask her rather than expecting to spoon-feed you everything."

If? _If? _"How am I supposed to get past you?" Shikamaru said rather than dignify the rest with an answer. "You haven't told me any of that."

"We talk," Odd-Shikamaru said dryly. "Let's talk about girls, shall we? Tea?"

"How do I know the tea isn't poison?" Shikamaru eyed the tea service warily- it had just appeared, like the chair, out of thin air. He kept his eyes on the kettle as Odd-Shikamaru poured hot water into two cups. "And what about girls?"

"She'll never stand for you to protect her the way you wish to." Odd-Shikamaru's voice was unreadable, giving no hint of how he felt about it.

Shikamaru shrugged tightly. His hands clenched in his lap. There was no point in pretending he didn't understand who Odd-Shikamaru was talking about. Everyone had been talking about her lately. "She doesn't have to agree-it doesn't change the fact that I still want to do that."

Those words barely touched the tip of the iceberg for what he wanted to say. Was it so wrong to want to protect those who starred in his nightmares? Was it wrong to want to protect her when he'd learnt not half a year ago just how dangerous a shinobi's way of life could be?

"What's the point of all of this?" Shikamaru asked intently, carefully deliberate and steady. It was a trick he'd learned from Ino: fake it until you make it. If he pretended to be in control perhaps he'd eventually actually _be_in control. "Why do the Nara have to suffer through nightmares? And then to tell us that we're not even able to protect those who feature in them?"

"Nara?" Odd-Shikamaru asked in return. "Or you?"

"Does it matter?" Shikamaru asked quietly. "The questions are the same either way." How and why they, he, had to deal with shadows and nightmares that played hell on the emotions and on their sleeping patterns and how there wasn't anything that could be done. He'd seen the lengths some of the Clan had gone to in an attempt to find something that worked. Nothing did.

Odd-Shikamaru just stared at him.

Slowly, Shikamaru flushed. "Me then," he said, lifting his chin insolently. "Since you care little for the rest of the Clan. _Why?_"

"What do the dreams do?" Odd-Shikamaru tapped his fingers on the table and frowned very slightly, like Shikamaru was a student whose grades had abruptly dropped. "That is to say, what do they keep you in mind of?"

Shikamaru frowned. There was a small part of him that wanted to complain that question wasn't an answer at all. Yet the way it had been asked, he realized, was an answer in and of itself. "I remember," he said slowly, "what it's like when they die." His heart sank as he figured out how that was important. Shikamaru swallowed hard. "It's so we don't forget that they matter, isn't it?"

"Is that a question?"

Shikamaru shook his head slowly. "More of a statement than anything else." It was upsetting. "Why do we get the reminders?"

"Nara are very... intellectual," Odd-Shikamaru replied, eyes half-lidded. "Logical. Fond of reducing things to games and strategies. The dreams are meant to remind you that there's other things that matter."

Shikamaru crossed his arms over his chest. "What about the other Clans? Nara hardly has a monopoly on being logical and game driven."

"How should I know about other Clans?" Odd-Shikamaru asked with a cool glance. "I am Nara and I know only Nara's secrets. Presumably other Clans have their own ways of staying balanced in the face of everything."

"Then there's no way for me to prove the validity of your claim either way."

Odd-Shikamaru rolled his eyes. "Even if I knew other Clans secrets- what good would that do you? Would you walk up and ask for their Clan secrets? The Clan Confidential would crash down hard." Open scorn coloured Odd-Shikamaru's voice.

Which was rich, Shikamaru thought, coming from someone who had _wrong_stamped all over the feel of his presence like someone had taken permanent marker and gone absolutely overboard with it. His hands clenched. "Is there anything you can tell me that I can prove?"

"I have already proven myself to you," Odd-Shikamaru said finally as he draped one arm over the back of his chair. A few scars—claw marks, Shikamaru thought-patterned the visible skin. "Or had you not noticed?"

That caught him off guard. _What? _"How do you figure that one?" Shikamaru asked.

Odd-Shikamaru snorted and gestured with one hand. Abruptly Odd-Ino, who'd been seated at a distance and little more than a recognizable silhouette was at the table with them. Rather than greet them, as Shikamaru expected her to, she sat still. Her eyes were empty and dark. She looked like a lifeless doll.

Gently Odd-Shikamaru arranged Odd-Ino's hands in front of her so that she looked merely demure instead of, instead of... dead.

Shikamaru hissed. _No_. She wasn't dead. He wouldn't allow it. This was _his _mind and he decided who got to live and die in it.

"Ah," Odd-Shikamaru said regretfully. "But it is also _my _mind and she is my creation, not yours."

"You killed her to prove a point?" Shikamaru demanded, the words fraught with the repressed urge to scream. "I wouldn't—"

"You wouldn't do such a thing?" Odd-Shikamaru said as he glanced away from Odd-Ino. Shikamaru recoiled from the coldness in his other self's eyes. "But you would. You're _me_, Shikamaru. We are one and the same."

Shikamaru shook his head in denial. He wouldn't ever do that, not to Ino, not to anyone. He wasn't capable of it. "Not _her_," he insisted. "_Never _to anyone."

"And yet," Odd-Shikamaru said softly, "I would. Reconcile that."

How was he supposed to do that? Shikamaru shook his head again. He couldn't. There was no logic in this. How did he reconcile the fact that he wouldn't and yet his other self would commit murder to prove a point?

Shikamaru struggled to find an answer as Odd-Shikamaru gently straightened Odd-Ino's hair and tucked a flower into her hands-he had no idea where the flower had come from-and scowled. Odd-Shikamaru treated her like… almost like… "You _do _care for her," he breathed, shaken. "But then why…"

Why had he killed her? Odd-Shikamaru didn't answer him. Apparently willing to remain silent and allow him to work this through on his own. Just like Shikamaru had wanted from the start.

Ino was someone important to him. A teammate. Maybe more though Shikamaru wasn't sure of that. She was so _infuriating_. Odd-Ino had been a companion to Odd-Shikamaru, and to him which made it stranger that Odd-Shikamaru would have had killed her. Shikamaru couldn't quite wrap his mind around it.

He didn't have the faintest idea of how to reconcile the facts. If this had taken place in the real world (and how real was or wasn't it when he was mourned either way?) rather than shadows then there were precious few scenarios that he could imagine that would put him in such a bind.

Even then, Shikamaru doubted that Hokage-sama would ever send a teammate on a mission to eliminate a teammate. Not even in ANBU was such a thing done.

There was something very painful about watching Odd-Shikamaru patiently fuss over Odd-Ino so that she didn't slip from her chair and the careful way he treated her body was completely at odds with what he'd _done_.

_The only way I'd do something like that,_ Shikamaru thought, _was if I had no choice_. Shikamaru thought he'd rather die himself than to fight against _any _of his important people, not just Ino: the thought of turning a kunai on Chouji turned his stomach. Or Asuma-sensei, or his parents, or any of the others. He couldn't think ever being able to do it or wanting to do it. No matter how irritated he got at times.

But then, Shikamaru realized, it didn't look like Odd-Shikamaru had _wanted _to do it either. Had Odd-Ino done something so horrible that he'd had to? Turned traitor in some way that was unforgivable?

Shikamaru struggled with that-what could Odd-Ino have done while confined in his mind? Or... the thought made him want to vomit and Shikamaru swallowed hard several times before he was able to face the thought. Perhaps she'd died because of something _he'd _done.

"As she'd say," Odd-Shikamaru's raspy, painful sounding voice was very soft. "'Bingo!'"

Shikamaru went white as his stomach lurched viciously, sending him to lean over the side of the chair to retch.

Odd-Shikamaru said nothing and as Shikamaru emptied his stomach, he thought that was more than fair. If this was is fault then throwing up was the very least that he deserved.

He closed his eyes and waited for the nausea to pass. There was the clink of something hitting the table but he ignored it in favour of the ringing in his ears his harsh, panting breaths. Tears tracked their way down his face and he scrubbed ineffectually at them.

This was his fault and Odd-Ino was dead by the hand of someone who'd cared deeply for her. What had it cost Odd-Shikamaru to do that? How deeply had it scarred him? Shikamaru thought of the scars Odd-Shikamaru bore. Of the way his other self spoken with a twisted, mangled voice. How else had he paid?

His hands shook and his mouth tasted of bile. When he looked up there was a glass of water on the table.

"I don't deserve that," he said. Was it odd to mourn a tragedy that had only happened in his head? He would _miss _Odd-Ino and what had happened to Odd-Shikamaru was his fault too. But how did he go about fixing something that was only in his head to begin with?

"It's just water," Odd-Shikamaru replied quietly. "Refusing it will not help. Punishing yourself like that will only A punishment like that means nothing and detracts from your ability to think clearly."

_Let me be miserable_, Shikamaru wanted to say, but he had no right to say it. Not to the broken, twisted and _changed_ Odd-Shikamaru. Whatever problems Shikamaru had, Odd-Shikamaru had borne up under far worse. Shikamaru reached for the water.

It was cool and soothed his throat but did nothing for his thoughts. The power to change this reality was his responsibility alone. Shikamaru paused.

Odd-Shikamaru glanced up, eyes glinting intently.

It was _his _reality.

"In this shadow," Shikamaru said quietly, "what are the limits?"

"Your limits?" Odd-Shikamaru asked, a peculiar note in his voice. "Or my limits?"

"Are they different?" Shikamaru asked swiftly. "How so? We're connected."

"You," Odd-Shikamaru said with a faint lift to his lips, without ever taking his eyes off of Odd-Ino, "tell me."

"That'd dodging the question," Shikamaru accused, scowling at him. "I'm asking you because I don't know."

Odd-Shikamaru glanced at him then. His eyes were cool. "But you do know."

He knew? Shikamaru turned that over in his head. Point one: They were connected. Point two: They shared some abilities. Point two and a half: They didn't share _everything_. Odd-Shikamaru knew more than he, here, and had more apparent power inside Shikamaru's shadow. Point three: They could fix this.

Shikamaru mulled over those and struggled to glean more information from them. What did Odd-Shikamaru know that he didn't? How to use the shadow here. From the moment he'd entered the walk, Shikamaru had been unable to use his shadow-he couldn't even feel it.

Odd-Shikamaru was not similarly restricted.

Odd-Shikamaru also had control over the area and other people within the area. He'd killed Odd-Ino.

But he'd _created _her as well.

Odd-Shikamaru had power over the location, over the people, over him, even, as Odd-Shikamaru could read his thoughts as soon as he thought them.

Shikamaru glanced at his other self, unsurprised to see no reaction to that. Appearances were only the first layer of the game being played here, a game Shikamaru didn't care much for. He frowned. How could Odd-Shikamaru have so much control over him and yet have gone unnoticed before this?

He'd noticed Odd-Ino, but Odd-Shikamaru... the other was as old as he was and yet… Shikamaru paused. As old _as he was..._

Shikamaru's eyes narrowed. "You're not like Odd-Ino," he said. "She was created by you to get my attention. But you... you're my subconscious."

Which was _terrifying._ He'd figured it out-but his sub-conscious was a twisted and broken version of himself. One, Shikamaru reminded himself, who was capable of killing his precious people. His stomach flipped uneasily. Little wonder that Odd-Shikamaru had been so adamant about it being possible for _Shikamaru _to kill a precious person.

Who would know better than his own subconscious?

Odd-Shikamaru nodded once, slowly.

It was nauseating. It was horrible. It was all his fault. But now that he was face-to-face with himself Shikamaru thought he might be just a bit lucky too. How many people had a chance to put things right with _all _of themselves helping?

"Alright," Shikamaru said briskly, "if that's the case then we're going to fix this. _All_ of this," he added, with a deliberate glance at Odd-Ino. If she was a construct of his-_their_-mind then they could bring her back.

"Bringing the dead back to life," Odd-Shikamaru said, "would be considered forbidden arts outside of here." His voice gave away nothing of his thoughts.

"And in here," Shikamaru replied steadily, "it can't be. No one can police our mind but us. Bringing her back would harm no one, would it? Not even us."

It would help Odd-Shikamaru, he thought, and in turn, that would help _him_. Then he wouldn't have to live with the thought that Odd-Ino was dead, inside of him, for the rest of his life. He'd never be able to face the _real_Ino. Nothing was simple here but nothing was impossible to fix either.

"What good will it do?" Odd-Shikamaru asked, sorrow in his voice. "Bringing her back will only enable the continuation of past patterns. Her death was a catalyst for growth."

My growth, Shikamaru thought. With her death, he'd been forced into dealing with what was wrong inside his head. Odd-Shikamaru had not grown from Odd-Ino's death.

He took a deep breath. "Does it harm anyone to bring her back?"

Odd-Shikamaru's eyes were unreadable as shadows coiled around his head. "It could harm you."

"Her _lack _of presence harms you," Shikamaru countered. "Can you deny that?"

Odd-Shikamaru said nothing. Which was answer enough.

"If we're to change things," Shikamaru said. "We can't be on different sides of the same table."

They'd have to work together and move as one because one was all they were supposed to be. Not _two_. Odd-Shikamaru studied him with a probing gaze and Shikamaru forced himself to stay still. He didn't know what the other him was looking for.

But he hoped that Odd-Shikamaru found it.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized that the way they'd been going about it was all wrong. Getting Odd-Ino back important. More important, though it twisted his heart to admit it, was getting himself back together. This split wasn't normal. They were supposed to be, had to be, one person. Not two in one body.

"We'll never be fully merged," Odd-Shikamaru said, smiling faintly. The barest ghost of a smile.

Shikamaru scowled. "Why not?"

"The moment you entered your shadow the chance of us ever being fully one died," Odd-Shikamaru explained. "Walking through your shadow has given that shadow a definite form. That form always comes from the subconscious mind, not the conscious mind."

"I'm not following," Shikamaru admitted. "Giving form I can understand but why is the form permanent?"

"Because your shadow is permanent," Odd-Shikamaru replied quietly. "Didn't you notice all the shadows in the temple? Your shadow will long out-live you."

Shikamaru opened his mouth to automatically protest then shut it with a snap. He couldn't prove or disprove Odd-Shikamaru's information and there were many good reasons why Odd-Shikamaru spoke the truth. He could always confirm it with Aunt Sadako when he got out of here too.

Odd-Shikamaru shifted and smiled. There was genuine amusement in his other's face.

"What did I think that was so amusing?" Shikamaru asked with a sigh.

Odd-Shikamaru shook his head. "You'll understand once we're finished here," Odd-Shikamaru answered and stood in one smooth motion. "It's not my place to explain that to you."

Explain _what_? Shikamaru wondered grumpily, before getting up as well. "What are we going to do, then?"

"You're right in one sense," Odd-Shikamaru told him, in that raspy, painful sounding voice that Shikamaru was dismayed to find he was getting used to. "We need to get more in sync."

Shikamaru rested his hands lightly in his pockets, shoulders in their usual slump as he flicked mentally through several options, some more distasteful than others, about how they were supposed to go about that. "Did you have any suggestions?"

"I always do," Odd-Shikamaru said dryly. "But, as always, the true question is: will you listen to them?"

"The only way out is through," he said firmly, understanding those words better now. "I'm determined that we'll do this. Together."

Odd-Shikamaru nodded, shadows flickering over his face as he held out one hand. "Then let's put ourselves back together, shall we?"

Shikamaru didn't hesitate as he reached for Odd-Shikamaru's hand and clasped it tightly.

The world exploded around them.

He was himself and he was the other as well. Shadow and human and something that was neither. An awareness and yet only a shell. Both with a body and only with a mind. He was shadows and he used the shadows. He hid from the light and he walked in it. He cared and he didn't care at all. The world kept spinning and Shikamaru was more than he'd been before.

He could feel and sense the other and the other could feel and sense him. They were half and they were whole where before they'd been broken. Now they were one and one other but whole. Twins rather than strangers. One and yet two and those two were more powerful together as one.

He could feel himself and he could feel the other him. They still stood, hands held out over a table, Odd-Ino dead-at rest-at peace before him and that was all that they knew in one sense and the barest touch of what they knew in another. They were powerful and they were weak and there were things they knew instinctively and things they didn't and would have to learn.

They were young and they were old. Between them they had more years than anyone their age, but they were still teenagers with the lack of experience that entailed. Somehow, the world kept on spinning. It spun around him, around them, the shadows flickering, shaking, twisting and rolling in on themselves as the world shifted and stayed the same and things were _changed_.

Shikamaru opened his eyes (when had he closed them?) and saw through two pairs, not just one. The conflicting vision was nauseating, confusing and he shut his eyes again and held on. There was no such thought to letting go. Letting go would destroy the both of them because their world was incomplete and still working fixing itself.

Visions flew over them, between them, through them and Shikamaru was horrified and not at all disturbed to realize that all of the nightmares had been carefully crafted by the other and by him. It made sense and it didn't and how else would they have been so very effective? Where else would they have come from? Who else could he and the other trust with the deepest fears they had?

He felt, they felt, sorrow and grief in tandem and the emotions, between them were not halved but doubled, tripled. Shikamaru thought their skin would burst, but it didn't and everything kept spinning.

That made sense and didn't at all and black eyes met black, both with the same faint smile. They understood each other even when other people had it wrong. One understood and one didn't but they could figure that out in time. They had the time, they had the tools to put it all together. It was a blessing now that they were not on active duty. It was now a matter of breathing and keeping their world from turning too far, too fast.

Their hands were clasped. Their heads rang with a hundred million memories being reconfigured, resorted, reaccepted and they swayed, both shadow and chakra swirling around them, out of their control but not violent.

Things changed as they breathed.

Foundations shifted, moving, altering so that when it was done there would be no sign that they'd ever been any other way than how they were going to _be_. No evidence of the past other than their memories and, really, that was all the evidence they would need. Him and other-him and their shadow because it _was_ their shadow, not just his, not just _his_.

They'd been a shadow that obeyed no one and listened to nothing but the shadows in the temple. That led their thoughts spiralling down a new path, making waves, as their thoughts rolled and curved and slowly looked for a solution. What about the temple?

_What about it? _he asked, his voice loud and quiet all at the same time and he could feel the amusement of the other-him all around them.

_I'll show you_, came the response. _Watch_.

The world shifted and changed again. He struggled to focus while the other was focus itself and then-

The temple. The wood was unweathered and the paint clean and the walls neat and tidy. The roof was neatly shingled. Grass brushed his ankles. He watched as another Nara, a woman, wrinkled with age but her footsteps still strong and steady, approached the temple carefully. Shikamaru started when he realized that behind her, barely visible, was another her.

Shadow slipped from her feet and spread across the ground like a spill of ink then arched up and up and _over_to cover the temple. She staggered as her shadow flickered with the effort of covering the temple and its grounds. The shadow flickered once more and then seeped into the ground, into the building, and disappeared.

As the woman sat, her other-her beside her, they clasped hands. Both of them smiled wearily.

Time passed and then came her sons. Both of them accompanied by their other-selves. They, too, wrapped their shadows around the building and grounds-the only thing different was that they worked as a group of four rather than only two.

Another flash-forward and the woman was dead. It was after her funeral and he watched as her body was cremated. Her sons and their families stone-faced with grief.

And, he realized with a jolt, the other-her watched from the shadows with an indescribable expression on her face. She'd survived where herself hadn't. No one noticed her there and, as he watched, she slipped off through the shadows towards the temple.

_How? _he asked as time moved on in the shadow-world and they watched, learning the history that he'd never been taught and that his other-self had known without having to be told.

_Shadows cannot die_, was his response. _The temple gave us a physical anchor._

What did a shadow without an anchor do?

His other-self remained silent but the images twitched and _shifted_ in response to his question. It opened up on a different scene. A different house. A place where shadows walked and people did not. _Ghosts,_ his other-self whispered. _Shadows who have lost themselves become ghosts. Nothing left to them but permanence and violence._

The houses emptied as they watched. No one wanted to live where ghosts did and none of tenants as they gave up one-by-one seemed to see the lithe washed-out and faded shadows that darted in and around to cause havoc.

_No one ever pays attention to the shadows_.

Shikamaru nodded. His ancestor, Nara Sachiko-the name supplied by his other-self-had put an end to that, as far as the Nara went. She'd formalized the differences between their shadows and that of their kin who did not wind up with a shadow that would survive past them. How had she done it? How were those who survived and those who didn't chosen?

His other-self laughed, a soft snickering sound that didn't sound twisted at all and the world dimmed. That answer, he was told, was lost.

They floated together and he floated alone. They drifted through the darkness aimlessly and yet were more anchored than they'd ever been before. Shikamaru considered opening his eyes and yet that seemed like too much effort. He wasn't surprised by the laughter from his other self.

"You always were lazy."

Despite the words, Shikamaru smiled. The voice is no longer twisted. A little rougher than his, but far healthier than it had been.

Shikamaru shook his head. "I'll always be lazy."

"So long as the important things-"

"I won't be about those," he interrupted his other half. "Not the things that matter."

"I suppose," Odd-Shikamaru murmured, "that that will have to do."

Shikamaru rolled his eyes. "It's better than it was."

He opened his eyes. Darkness surrounded them. Their hands were still clasped but the table had disappeared. Odd-Shikamaru was no longer visible but Shikamaru could feel his presence and knew that wherever he went, so did the other. That was how it was supposed to be.

"Is that it, then?" Shikamaru asked, his voice hushed in the darkness. "Did we fix everything?" The shadow felt healthier, safer. No longer did it grasp at him to keep him captive. He drifted, floated, buoyed on an endless crest of a shadow wave.

"We've made a start," Odd-Shikamaru determined, finally, as if he'd wanted to make quite sure of his answer before giving one. "But no, not everything is fixed yet."

"Am I going to stay here until all of it is?"

"No," was the quiet response, "we've fixed what we can in this state. Everything else will have to be done in the waking-real world."

The waking-real world... that was the best way he'd heard to describe it yet. "Got a few hints for me on that? You're not going to be able to talk to me like this out there are you?"

"Not exactly like this," Odd-Shikamaru said dryly. "Yet it won't be so different either. You'll know when I'm trying to say something. To fix the past, you've got to go forward now that the fundamentals have been looked at and understood."

"Understood...," Shikamaru echoed with a sigh as Odd-Shikamaru's handclasp faded from his grasp. "Who'd have thought even I could be so troublesome?" They both laughed, their voices nearly the same.

Things have changed.

"So they have," his other-self murmured and Shikamaru had the odd sensation of someone placing their hands over his eyes. He stayed still as Odd-Shikamaru murmured in his ear. "It's time for you to walk out now."

The world shifted and Shikamaru blinked. He was in a dark corridor that looked more like it was made of marble than out of shadow. Odd-Shikamaru's insistence that he go nudged him along and before he realized it, he'd taken several steps. "Alright," Shikamaru said, huffing a laugh. "I'm walking, I'm walking."

There was a light at the end of the tunnel and the warmth of unwavering companionship at his back. He would never be alone. Shikamaru walked forward.

And out of his shadow.

* * *

Only the epilogue to go! \o/ Please review!


	8. Sadako

Title: Walk Through Shadow  
Chapter: 08 Sadako  
Author/Artist: Killaurey  
Disclaimer: Naruto doesn't belong to me. It's Kishimoto's and I just play with it. AU immediately after the Sasuke Retrieval Arc. Part 8 of 8! Unbeta'd. Thanks so much to all who read, review, and lurk!

Notes: This is a side story to _Slow Burn_. It's not absolutely necessary to read Slow Burn, but it would probably help explain the backstory!

[Shikamaru centric] While Ino is off in Kumogakure for the Chuunin Exams, Shikamaru's nightmares worsen and his control over his shadow unravels. Getting it together again means facing his worst enemy—himself.

* * *

The familiar sight of his bedroom ceiling greeted him when he opened his eyes. Shikamaru blinked up at it and wondered how he'd gotten to his room when he'd been… elsewhere. He pushed himself up on his elbows, feeling achy and stiff but otherwise alright, and looked around, scratching at his nightshirt.

Shikamaru didn't bother puzzling over who'd gotten him out of the clothing he'd been wearing-of all the mysteries that was the least important-and tried to grasp at some memory that would explain how he'd wound up here. He remembered walking from his shadow and then… nothing.

He flopped back down and frowned, his eyebrows drawing together. The door cracked open and he turned his head to see who it was.

His father stepped into the room, his face pinched and weary, and with a jolt Shikamaru realized that he'd worried his father badly. How long had he been gone? Gone where his father couldn't follow. Shikaku was not clingy, that was his mother's domain, but Shikamaru had always known his father cared, deeply, for him.

"I'm fine," Shikamaru said quickly, trying to reassure his father because his father wasn't supposed to look like _that_ over _him_. He levered himself up carefully. "Nothing wrong with me at all."

Shikaku looked as if he didn't buy that as he sat on the edge of the bed. Shikamaru sighed a little as his father's arm came around behind him, offering additional support. "You've been out for three days," Shikaku said gravely, "and before that, gone a week. Your mother is frantic."

Looking at his father, Shikamaru thought that it wasn't just his mother who'd been badly worried. "Ten _days?_" his voice cracked a little. It had felt like hours to him, in the shadow. He leaned a little more solidly against his father and looked up. "How did I get here?"

Aunt Sadako had told him that only they could see the temple. That only one in each generation could. He paused that thought. There'd been the woman and _both_of her sons in the history his shadow had shown him-had Aunt Sadako had been wrong about the one per generation thing? When had that started? He shook his head. That wasn't important right now.

"Sadako brought you," Shikaku said, his face shuttered. "And then told us she couldn't stay."

There was more than just his condition that was bothering his father, Shikamaru realized. He wondered what was wrong with Aunt Sadako. He wondered how much his father had argued with her about leaving. She'd won, clearly, but looking at his father he thought it had been a bitter pill for Shikaku to swallow.

"I'm fine," he said carefully, rather than stick his nose into problems that weren't his own. Shikamaru tried a smile. "Just a little stiff, that's all. I'll see if I can track her down after I shower, if you want?" She had to be at the temple, Shikamaru thought. Where else would she go where no one would be able to find her? The bigger question was why had she gone.

From the way his father frowned, Shikamaru knew that his father had looked for her, and that he didn't like that only his son had a chance at finding her. Shikaku's voice was low and steady. "What are your odds of finding her?"

Shikamaru shrugged and looked away. "Why is it so hard to believe that I might be able to?"

His father's arms tightened around his shoulders. Shikaku was silent for a long time, long enough that Shikamaru found himself almost dozing, like his body was determined to make a liar out of him. "No one has been able to find her," Shikaku said quietly, finally.

Shikamaru forced his eyes open as his attention sharpened. "What's that supposed to mean? I've been finding her, haven't I?"

Shikaku's eyes held something… brittle, Shikamaru realized, surprised. "Sadako-"

"_Shikaku,_" Aunt Sadako said chidingly from the doorway. "Telling secrets that aren't yours? You always were the gossip of the family."

Shikamaru peered around his father to see his aunt, looking lively. Her pale green eyes flickered to him and she smiled at him before turning a stare back on his father. "And you really should know by now that gossips never get the story just right."

"Sadako," his father said, his voice quiet. "This isn't the time for your games. He should be told-"

Sadako hooked her fingers in her belt. "You still can't tell it," she said, her eyes direct and her voice flat. "It stopped being your story to tell years ago." Her grin made her look fey. "There's been a couple of sequels since then."

Shikaku just sighed.

"Look," Aunt Sadako said in a softer voice, "this time I really do know what I'm doing."

"That's," he felt his father take a long deep breath before continuing on. "That's what you said last time, Sadako."

"Yes, well…" Aunt Sadako shrugged. "I wasn't _wrong_ back then, Shikaku. I just wasn't… we all made mistakes, Shikaku."

"Some mistakes are more easily forgiven than others."

Shikamaru had to strain to hear his father, so quietly was he speaking. The self-loathing in his father's voice startled him badly.

"True," Aunt Sadako replied easily. "But Shikaku, there's nothing to forgive. Not in this. Not in _that_."

His father flinched as if struck and looked away sharply.

Aunt Sadako leaned against the door, her eyes unreadable. "I mean it," she said, "that there's nothing to forgive."

"Stop it," Shikaku said. "Sadako, there _is_. I…"

"Enough." Aunt Sadako nodded towards him. "You forget, your son is in the room."

From the way Shikaku's arm tightened around his shoulders, Shikamaru wasn't so certain that his dad had _forgotten_. But then, he thought, with a glance at Aunt Sadako, maybe she knew that and was being gracious about it.

What didn't she want his father to tell him? Curiosity gnawed at his insides.

"Shikamaru," his aunt said, "can you walk?"

"I haven't tried yet," he admitted, mentally tallying up how tired and stiff he was in order to give a more accurate answer. "Probably." He'd felt worse after training.

"Get cleaned up," she told him. "And we'll go for a walk." Aunt Sadako's eyes lifted to rest on his father. "Is that acceptable, Shikaku?"

"I…"

"Oh alright," Aunt Sadako said, her eyes holding the seriousness her voice did not. "How about you come later and you and I will talk then, while Shikamaru rests?"

Shikamaru thought that was pretty high-handed of her but from the vise-like grip across his shoulders and the unrelenting tension that sang through his father's body… and the way that Shikaku's eyes never left his sister… maybe, Shikamaru thought, maybe he could stand Aunt Sadako being a little high-handed. Just this once.

"Alright," Shikaku said, after what seemed an age. "I'll come after."

* * *

The walk with Aunt Sadako through town was both familiar and not. He kept his hands hanging loosely at his side while Aunt Sadako chattered on about everything and anything as long as it wasn't important.

Which sort of reminded him of Ino, he thought, amused as he paced alongside his aunt. Maybe he'd introduce them, when Ino came back.

Shikamaru rather thought that he could make a few guesses on what she had to tell him. Between his shadow and his father… but he'd wait, until they were at the temple, to ask.

He could be a little more patient and it harmed no one and nothing to let her go on about inconsequential matters for the moment. He wondered if that was something like what his father thought, day in and day out, during the business of running a clan.

Perhaps the things that were annoying weren't so annoying when the other option was not having them at all. He filed that thought away to look at later.

Eventually he slumped on the temple steps and wiped at the sweat on his brow. Shikamaru surveyed the ground in front of him, breathing deeply. The grass was _really _green.

"Aunt Sadako?" he said. "Was there really a need to drag me all the way out here? And how is Dad going to find us?"

She sat down beside him, a smile on her lips when he glanced over at her. "What is it? Tired already?"

Shikamaru grunted. "You're a harsh taskmaster," he said, because it would please her. "Making me walk all that way. You know I'm tired."

Aunt Sadako leaned forward, her long hair falling past her knees to brush against the steps. "My," she said, "a compliment _and_ an admission of weakness all in one? Are you feeling alright?"

A smirk curled his lips. "Never better," he replied. If he ignored the way his body felt at being forced to move after days of immobility, he felt-calmer, more stable. There was no question that he'd be off active duty for a while still, but it was getting better, for the first time in months.

"That _is_ good," she told him, a smile touching her eyes. She leaned back and he watched her fidget for a moment before she looked away from him. "I guess I should start somewhere," Aunt Sadako said slowly. "But, I confess, I'm not quite sure how."

"You and Dad," he said, before he could think better of it. Besides, this was what they'd come out for anyway. "What's the problem there? He's been really… " Shikamaru fumbled for a way to put it. "Off. About you."

She sighed and he leaned against her knees. "That's not a very pleasant topic," she said finally. "And it's not really something I like to talk about, boy."

He closed his eyes as her fingers worked their way into his hair. "I know," he replied quietly. "But that's what you told Dad you'd tell me, isn't it?"

"And running away from an unpleasant topic never helped anyone," she sighed. "I learnt that lesson, same as you."

"Does everyone's shadow teach the same lesson?" he asked, opening his eyes.

She shook her head. "I misspoke," Aunt Sadako said, "my shadow did not teach me that lesson, but I did learn it. It's something most people do, eventually." She sighed. "I digress, which is unfair to you."

"Maybe," he suggested, "you could start at the beginning?"

A hint of amusement touched her lips. "Is there ever a clean place to say that's where the beginning is? I could tell you how your father's first team was killed and the rest of his second team were several years his junior and how together, they made their teamwork famous. I could tell you the first time your mother noticed your father and the fights they used to have. I could tell you the fights _I_ used to have with your father…"

"Maybe you should talk about you," he said quietly, trying to adsorb the fact that the team his father was famous for hadn't been his original team- he'd never even realized that his dad, Ino's dad, and Chouji's dad _weren't _all the same age. It was with a pang that he chose to ask about her story instead of his dad's.

She smoothed her fingers through his hair. "I am four years younger than your father," Aunt Sadako told him. "When we were children, he never let me forget it and I hated that. I wanted to be able to do everything he could do and I wanted to be as respected as he was. Even as a Genin, people listened to him when he spoke. I could never get people to listen to me that way... then the war came and he was out on the front lines while I was stuck in the Academy."

Her gaze had gone dreamy, Shikamaru realized. As if she was looking back on old memories and finding comfort in the way things had been, once upon a time.

"Nara are known for their intelligence," she murmured, combing her fingers through his hair. He didn't object, even when she worked the elastic free. "Not for their work ethic. But being stuck at home while my big brother was fighting for his life, for his home, for everything Konoha stands for… it drove me. I graduated early. I was nine when the war started. I was ten when I graduated. I walked through my shadow on my tenth birthday."

Her fingers caught in his hair and he winced as she spent a moment working them free. "The war changed everyone, even those left behind. Out of my class, a third of us graduated that year. The rest followed within the next six months. I was so happy when my team was sent out into the warzone. We couldn't stand each other and the whole way there we argued but we were all similar in one way- we all wanted to help end the war. We all wanted to fight. Your father was so _angry_ when my team showed up."

"Why?" he asked, when it became clear that she needed a prompting to continue on.

"The outpost we'd been sent to… Shikaku was nominally in command. I don't think that anyone ever formally appointed him," she mused, "but he was. That's just how he works. My sensei and he fought-he didn't want us around. My teammates blamed me and I blamed Shikaku for it. My sensei won the argument: we could stay."

He tried to imagine his father losing a fight and couldn't. Shikamaru believed that it had happened but couldn't see how…

"We spent three years out in the field," she said, ignoring his inquiring glance to elaborate on the argument his father had lost. "During that time, Shikaku's first team died in an ambush and he was reassigned to a different team who'd lost a member. They _clicked_. Anyone could see it. As for my team… we managed. Like most people there, we managed well enough to keep ourselves alive, to learn. I was promoted to Chuunin, then my teammates-field promotions were common then, not the standardized testing you've got now. For six months your father and I held the same rank and I was pleased."

"He wasn't," Shikamaru said flatly. He could imagine _that_.

"No," Aunt Sadako agreed. "He wasn't. He was still my senior, but he couldn't send my team on missions suitable only for Genin. We were too skilled. Then he made Jounin and the war worsened… there weren't enough Jounin to go around. More and more often he was forced to make the decision to send Chuunin on Jounin-level missions and pray they'd survive. Eventually, he had to send my team out on a mission we weren't qualified for."

Her smile was crooked as she looked down at him. "He'd have gone himself," Aunt Sadako said, "he was that over-protective of me. But he had a different mission. There was no other team available to take the mission he was forced to give me and no time to see if another team would become available. I don't think he'd even had a chance to do more than scan the scroll… "

She shook her head. "It was orders to blow up an enemy base. Nearly two hundred of the enemy's forces were stationed there. To this day, I have no idea how our Intel discovered it-or how the base had managed to go undetected for so long."

"What did the scroll say?" he asked, knowing it had to have been bad.

"The scroll told us that the mission took priority over our lives. If we could take out that base, it would be a major blow to the enemy. We _needed _a major victory by that point. Morale was down. Shikaku offered us the chance to turn down the mission once we'd read the scroll. I think, now, that he was worried by the way we'd gone quiet-my team never was, you see-and was wondering what he'd given us as a job. Back then, I thought only that he didn't believe we could handle it."

"We did." There was no mistaking the pride in her voice. "Three Chuunin took out that base, without backup, with only thirty-six hours to plan and more than half of that time being needed for reaching the location. We _did _it." Her voice dropped. "But it cost us, Shikamaru. We were able to get in and set up the bombs. We weren't able to get out. All three of us knew what the scroll said and… it wasn't even a decision. We blew the base up… and…"

Shikamaru watched her and wondered if she realized just how sad her eyes looked. "You died," he said quietly, startled when she brushed tears off his cheeks. He hadn't even known he'd been crying. "And then…"

"I woke up," she said bitterly. "Alone, in a forgotten temple, and nothing more than a shadow. Sadako died in that base. Her shadow… _I_… didn't."

He remembered the way his ancestor, Sachiko, had stood watching as her body burned. He remembered his shadow telling him that it would outlive him. He realized that he had no idea how that would feel or what Aunt Sadako had gone through.

"I was so angry," she whispered. "I was still around and yet I could do nothing. No one could hear me outside of the temple and slowly, people started to forget me. The war went on without me. I had nothing, could do nothing, but rage."

She sighed. "It was a long time before I could learn anything else," she said, "and by the time I was less consumed… the war had ended. All they found of me was my dog tags. Your father wears them still-he found out, later, what the mission had been. He's never forgiven himself."

Shikamaru understood better now the conversation between his aunt and his father. "I don't think," he said, "that I would either. He should have read that scroll more carefully. He sent you to your death."

"If he hadn't sent our team, then another would have had to go and die in our place," Aunt Sadako said. "I was glad to do so, in service of my village. I've only regretted my death because I woke up, when no one should, couldn't _do_ anything."

Shikamaru shook his head. He couldn't imagine that. His father had sent his _little_ sister to her death. And she was telling him it was okay.

That there was nothing to forgive. His stomach churned. It wasn't his place to judge his father but he didn't, couldn't, think of making that decision.

Except… hadn't his shadow managed to make a decision just as hard?

"There are some things," she said, "that are more important than life. You'll understand someday."

He hoped he never did.

"Once my rage had worn itself out, the other shadows taught me." She hesitated then forged on doggedly. "They taught me to insinuate myself into peoples' memories, to make them believe that I'd always been around. To use someone else as a springboard to being 'alive' for an hour, for two, for a day, but to always leave before the person whose energy I'd borrowed lost too much and more. Then…"

"Then?" he prompted.

"Before I knew it," she said, "you were here, your shadow desperately struggling to manage-all of us could hear it." Her lips twisted into a smile. "How could we not? All of us lived through the same. They let me go-an aunt to teach a nephew. And now… well, how we go forward is up to you. I did lie. I did alter your thoughts and dampen your curiosity when it would have caused too many complications in the teaching. I falsified memories so that you'd be less wary of me. I will understand, if that is unforgivable."

She fell silent and he leaned a little more weight into her. Now that he was paying attention to it, he could feel the cool not-quite-liquid touch of a shadow running under her skin. At last, he said, "You're supposed to teach me."

"If you want me to," Aunt Sadako said immediately, "then yes. There are others who will take my place if you wish." She twisted a piece of hair-shadow, he reminded himself-around her fingers nervously.

He thought about that. He wondered how many Nara had pushed away that first lie and been taught by those who'd existed but hadn't lied, hadn't messed with their heads in order to get them to listen. Shikamaru let the silence grow, still leaning against his Aunt's shadow, all that survived of her.

The thing was, he knew it hadn't all been a lie. There would have been ways to get him to the temple that hadn't involved working herself into his life as an aunt.

But then, Shikamaru thought, she _was _his aunt. Perhaps she'd wanted to be able to act like one, for once, instead of just being a shadow that no one noticed.

She toyed with his hair as he sighed. Her fingers paused. "Shikamaru?"

"I'd be a bad nephew if I pushed you away," Shikamaru told her. "After all, you've been trying pretty hard to look out for me. Just…"

She stared down at him, green eyes bleeding slowly black. "Just?" Aunt Sadako echoed as he sat up, gently disentangling her hand from his hair.

"Just stay out of my mind without my permission from now on," he said, resting his elbows on his knees and determinedly not looking at her. "Okay? That's all I ask."

Not looking at her turned out to be a mistake as the next thing he knew, he was engulfed in a hug. "I won't," Aunt Sadako promised. He had a funny feeling that if a shadow could cry… she was crying.

"Don't get my shirt wet," he said and made no move to shove her away. Well, Shikamaru thought, even if she did… it could be washed. The things he put up with.

Afterwards, he'd never be able to say how long they'd sat there, on the temple steps, before Shikamaru spotted his father walking towards them. He rather thought that, by now, the surprises should have been over.

"Aunt," he said, "Dad's coming."

She pulled away from him, her hair melting into her arms before reforming. Her eyes were red and her face splotchy. "So he is," she said, following his gaze. "May I ask you one more favour, Shikamaru?"

He didn't point out that she hadn't asked him for any favours before. "What sort of favour?" Shikamaru asked, watching as her body formed and melted into shadow and reformed again. She didn't look bothered by the way her shadow, herself, was acting. How much control had she exercised before to avoid constantly changing? Or had she simply altered his perception of her so he hadn't noticed?

Aunt Sadako took a deep breath. "I owe you another apology," she said, watching as Shikaku paused on the edge of the clearing. Her voice was too quiet to travel further than his ears. "And I _am_ sorry for both that and that I must ask it again. I thought I'd have more energy…"

Shikamaru thought about the days that had gone by, before he'd entered his shadow, and shook his head. If anything had happened, he couldn't remember it. "What sort of favour?" he repeated.

"When talking to you," she said, her gaze fastened on her older brother. "I use very little energy. You see the shadows of who we were without effort. Shikaku… is different. He could have been one of us," Sadako said quietly, "and maybe he would have done better than I, who didn't survive past my thirteenth year, but he chose to walk away from his shadow rather than go through it."

"That's why he knew where the temple was?" Shikamaru asked, glancing at his father. "He's been here before?"

"Only the once," Aunt Sadako said. "He was curious, Nara always are, but he did not like the mystery of it and he was older than you, more set in his ways back then. Tired, too. There was a lot going on back then, you have no idea…" She shook her head. "Once, while you slept, I tried to talk to him. But Yoshino was there and… forgive me, even when I was alive, she never cared for me. I could say nothing useful to him with her there."

Shikamaru looked at Aunt Sadako. Despite the way he wasn't sure at all of what to think of the news that his mother and his aunt hadn't gotten along, he said, "It's alright, Aunt."

She sighed. "You're kind to say so. And I'm talking around the subject again… Shikaku can't see me the way you can. He gave that up when he walked away. In order to talk to him, it takes me a great deal of energy so that I'm _present_ enough for him to interact with for longer than a few minutes."

"What does he see right now?" Shikamaru asked curiously. "Just me sitting with a bunch of shadow?"

"Something like that." Her voice was very soft. "Once, while you slept, I borrowed your energy to talk to him. I have no right to ask if I might do the same again, but I am."

He didn't say yes immediately- that wasn't his way. He didn't say no, either. "The last time," Shikamaru said thoughtfully, "what were the consequences?" He couldn't remember anything too bad, which made it less daunting to consider giving away his energy again.

"You needed sleep," she replied. "That's all. Your body required more rest for that day."

He nodded.

"Or," she said, a note of tension in her voice, "you could ask Shikaku to come back tomorrow so that I could talk to him. I'd be able to gather some energy on my own by the-"

"Take my energy," he interrupted abruptly. "Just make sure that my dad takes me home. I don't want to sleep on the steps of this place."

Her pale eyes studied his face searchingly. "You're certain?"

"Yes," he said swiftly, then softened it with, "and stop being troublesome. Just get on with it."

"Thank you," she whispered, sounding like the girl she'd been before she'd died. Her form shivered and shifted and he found himself staring at her, at how she must have looked back when she'd been alive. Her hair was cropped short, a headband keeping it out of her eyes. She wore a tank top and shorts under a knee-length tunic of fishnet. Her sandals were regulation black and her hitae-ite served as a belt, holding the tunic close about her waist. "I'll make it up to you."

Then, before he could protest that he didn't need it made up, she pressed a quick kiss that felt like ice to his forehead. Weariness filled his limbs and the last thing he saw, as she pulled away, looking like her adult-self once more, was her back as she made her way over to his father.

_Good_, he thought fuzzily. _That's good._

Shikamaru slept.

* * *

Shikamaru surveyed his wagonload of supplies and shook his head. If someone had told him a month ago, or even two weeks ago, that he'd be willingly spending his time buying materials and learning carpentry, he'd have thought them mad.

Settling himself at the front of the wagon, he got the horses moving, and found himself glad, not for the first time, that none of his friends were here to see this. They'd ask questions, he knew. Questions that he wasn't allowed to answer because the temple was _definitely_ covered under the Clan Confidential.

The nice thing about weather in Konoha at this time of the year, when most of the world was blanketed in snow, was that even with all the work he had ahead of him, it was _possible _to work rather than die of heat exhaustion. And if he wasn't that great at carpentry… a few of his ancestors had been and they were more than willing to help him out.

All he had to do was ask.

Thinking of the wall they'd ripped out yesterday, he knew that he'd have to ask, or the temple would fall down around their ears.

He found himself smiling and didn't bother to hide it. Yes, it would be a lot of work.

The wagon turned the last corner and he saw Aunt Sadako sitting on the stairs of the temple, looking thirteen, rather than thirty-something. She'd taken to doing that, in the last few days. He'd counted on it for today. When she spotted him, she bounced to her feet, planted her hands on her hips, and shouted, "You're late!"

He didn't know how a shadow aged exactly and so far he hadn't been able to pry the answer out of the other shadows, but he was glad to see his aunt acting like the girl she'd been before her death. Even if it made him sometimes feel like he'd suddenly acquired a little sister rather than an aunt.

"I know!" he called back. He didn't know what it was that she and his father had talked about a few days ago and he hadn't asked- that definitely wasn't any of his business. But whatever had passed between them had left his father more light-hearted than he'd ever been (at least, as far as Shikamaru could recall) and it had left Aunt Sadako…

He eyed her as she came to a halt beside the wagon. "Why?" she asked, her eyes bright. "You know that we were waiting for you."

"I know," he said. "But I was late for a good reason."

Her eyes narrowed, a touch of worry sliding through them. "Is everything okay?" Aunt Sadako asked as he slid down from the wagon.

"Everything's fine," he replied. "Got you a surprise, Aunt." Before she could object or even ask what the surprise was, he tugged her up onto the wagon.

"What sort of surprise?" she demanded, twisting to look at what he'd brought with him. "You were supposed to bring- oh!"

Shikamaru grinned.

She leaned over to reach for the box he'd punched air holes in. The box that wriggled as she picked it up. "What have you done?" Aunt Sadako asked him suspiciously.

"Just open the box," he said. "Dad said you'd like it."

"That's not a comfort," she grumbled. "He also used to think I 'liked' spiders in my bed."

Shikamaru snickered. "No spiders," he said, "I promise."

That was all the reassurance she needed to set the box on her lap and open it.

Three fluffy, fuzzy kittens blinked up at them, as though startled by their sudden freedom. One was grey and two were tabby. All of them had dark eyes.

"I was talking to Ancestor Sachiko," he said comfortably, when Aunt Sadako made no move to say anything. "And she said that animals are more perceptive to shadows _and_ of all animals, cats are the _most_ perceptive, especially if you get them young and have them grow up around it. Dad said that you'd always wanted a cat."

"So you got me three," she said disbelievingly.

"I thought that they'd keep you company when I was away on missions. And, well," he said, feeling a little embarrassed, "technically only one's from me. Dad got you one too."

"I love them." She reached into the box, offering the kittens her fingers to smell. One sneezed, one yawned, and one tried to bat at them. "And the third?"

"Mom picked it out." Shikamaru smiled as Aunt Sadako carefully lifted the kitten who'd tried to bat at her out of the box and cradled it to her chest. "She said that it wasn't worth holding onto that grudge any longer."

Aunt Sadako looked at him dubiously. "She said that?"

"Yeah," he said quietly. "She did. And that you'd know what it meant."

"I do," Aunt Sadako said softly as the other two kittens peered up over the edge of the box. She offered no more information and he didn't press. "Thank you, Shikamaru."

He allowed her five minutes to inspect her kittens in silence before sliding down from the wagon and casting a glance over his shoulder. "Well now," he said, with a wicked grin. "How about we get to work?"

"But-!" She looked at the kittens then back at him, clearly torn.

"They can come with us," he said, waving over a few of the other shadows, his _family_, who'd been waiting for acknowledgement. "You can look after them. I got them litter and food and all of that. You're even worse than I am at carpentry so it's no loss if you play with them instead."

"Hey!"

"It's the truth!" he said, laughing. "Come on, Aunt! We've got a lot to do." His shadow spilled over the wagon at his command and came away with part of its cargo. He set it just outside the temple doors and sent his shadow back for more. All the while, his shadow obeyed his every thought as smoothly as silk.

Soon, more shadows joined his.

Aunt Sadako, he thought as she snuggled the grey kitten, wasn't alone anymore. She'd be just fine.

So would he.

* * *

And done! Thanks to all of you who've read and enjoyed this story. :)


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